


Again And Again

by TheAlphaBi



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Because im not a great writer, But mostly Connor-centric, Chapter 4 is finally up!, Connor doesn't kill himself after he takes Evan's letter, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Groundhog Day AU, I hope ;)), I read it when I was younger and loved it!, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Major inspiration from 11 Birthdays by Wendy Mass, Mutual Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Supernatural Elements, Third Person POV, UNDERGOING MAJOR REVISIONS, implied eating disorder, its definitely for a younger Audience tho, will add tags as i progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-01-25 01:18:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12519700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAlphaBi/pseuds/TheAlphaBi
Summary: Two days isn’t enough to fall in love with someone. Or is it?A DEH Groundhog Day AU with a pining Connor for extreme angst.





	1. Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Prologue
> 
>  
> 
> Tw: attempted suicide

If you pry and ask Connor Murphy how it all started, he'd probably change the subject. Or have a breakdown. Or fly into an unfiltered rage. They were all fair game, really.

As tough as he may seem to the outsider or passing student, Connor Murphy, the guy voted "most likely to be a school shooter", was terrified. Connor Murphy was a kid. A scared, angry, hurting kid, thrown into the world before he was ready, before he had the chance to understand it.

Perhaps it began when he was younger; witty, loud, and a bit too smart-mouthed for a six year old. With his mother's sincerity and his father's tempter, his words knew no limits, no boundaries. Just the blunt truth that cut through like a knife.

"Mommy!" Five year old Zoe whined, "Why can't I go trick-or-treating by myself this year? I don't wanna go with you and Connie!" His mom began to launch some soft speech about 'spending time with the family' and 'bonding' as Zoe squealed on, but Connor knew better.

"There's bad people who want to hurt and snatch away kids," He cut in, Zoe shutting up to turn and stare at him with large, bewildered eyes. He always loved that glow in her eyes, curious and always willing to learn. So he was always willing to teach his sister. "I'm your big brother, so I'll protect you! And Mom will protect me!"

Even though Zoe's curious look turned scared and worried, she stuck close to them the whole night, confident her big brother could protect her.

He thought of himself as her knight in shining armor.

Connor Murphy was many things; arrogant, prideful, confident, passionate, but 'lively' was the word most would describe him with, and it was definitely his strongest trait. He was always moving and laughing and joking and learning and _living_. He knew how fucked up the world could be, sneaking downstairs late at night to watch the news as his parents shook their heads and sighed deeply.

But every day was different. Sometimes he'd see the news of people donating thousands to the homeless. Other days he'd find himself listening to an account of a horrific shooting. Or maybe a video of some kind of protest, people trying to make a difference in the world. It pressed him to move on, in hopes he'd see something amazing, learn something new, experience the next day and the changes it brought.

Of course, his all-too-willing personality got him in trouble more often than not. Connor's temper left his opinion's unfiltered and his emotions exploded freely like a firecracker that led to plenty of time-out and skipped desserts. He was, as some would describe him, arrogant. If there was one thing he wasn't afraid of, it was authority.

That damn orchard is what sent it all into a flurry of chaos. It all went downhill from there. The Autumn Smiles Apple Orchard wasn't a very popular place, but Connor and Zoe loved it. They'd run through the trees and tall grasses, whether as a pair of wayward explorers searching for new land or dashing bandits on the run, while their mom and dad set up the picnic and warned them not to go too far.

Cynthia Murphy had a sweet smile, gentle voice, soft hazel eyes, and reddish-brown hair. She was a bright young women, kind and compassionate, though a bit too soft and weak-willed. She took pictures for the scrapbook at home, and snuck them extra slices of apple pie when their dad wasn't looking. She loved dressing up the family together for Halloween. They had a Marvel theme one memorable year; Connor refused any costume that wasn't Spider-Man related.

Larry Murphy was a bit more rough-looking; tall, intimidating, dark brown eyes, slightly graying hair and pre-mature wrinkles. But he loved to make his kids laugh, cracking corny jokes and telling funny stories from "back in his day". He had crashed one of their model remote-controlled airplanes into the creek and called it an emergency landing. Zoe cackled loudly, Connor tried his hardest to stay angry at his father, but slipped into loud snorts, and their mom scolded her husband teasingly.

Connor loved Zoe more than anything in the world. Her soft brown hair would look nice and neat if she kept it down, but she always kept it shoved into messy pigtails, done herself. Connor's always liked his hair a bit longer than most boys, and Zoe was always eager to practice braids and buns on his dark brunette locks. He never minded when she painted his nails either, different shades of teal, blue, pink, and purple. It made him feel pretty. She loved it when he'd performed his latest tap routine just for her, she called it her "special secret show". They'd have loud, off-pitch Disney karaoke competitions, play kickball outside, hunt for caterpillars and rollie pollies, and play in the backyard with their imagination and never-ending adventures.

Maybe it was selfish of him, but Connor wanted it to stay this way. No matter what happened, no matter how fucked up the world was, he wanted to stay happy. He wanted his family to stay happy. He wanted to tune out the rest of the world and just live with his perfect, joyful family.

He never meant to push his sister.

One moment they were rough-housing as a pair of rowdy pirates, kicking, laughing, and the next thing he knew he was being pulled back by his father's strong hand and his mother was rushing down a dirt slope and practically wailing his sister's name, Zoe at the bottom of the dip, crying, bruised, and dirt-covered. He saw a flash of red smeared down her face. The blood dripped down thickly from her nose, gathering in big drops at her chin. Connor will never forget his sister's crying, his mother's panicked fussing, and his father's harsh words.

It felt different than the other rants his Larry Murphy had lectured, or really, attempted to lecture, his son with. His words cut deep, they thundered angrily and settled in Connor's chest.

Larry's words came out harsher than necessary. His dad was always protective of Zoe and Connor knew he just scared his dad. But every word was like a stab to the six year old's chest.

"What the hell were you thinking?! You could've given her a concussion! Do you want your sister to end up in the hospital?! This is unacceptable Connor! You can't just keep-" Connor's head was spinning and it was suddenly hard to breathe. He couldn't even understand what his father was saying at this point, or if Zoe was still crying and his mother still fussing.

I hurt her. I hurt her. I hurt her. I _hurt_ her. His brain droned on and on like a mantra. He was supposed to protect her. He was her knight. He was supposed to slay the dragon, defend her from ruffians, send the monsters running and give his sister a hug in the victory. All those adventures vanished in an instant, replaced with a newer memory of Zoe crying, eyes wide with fear, the blood on her face and he just saw red, _red, red, red, red, red, red, red-_

Once the bleeding had stopped, his mom scooped up sniffling Zoe tenderly in her arms, his dad following and Connor trailing behind them, head hung in shame. The sunsets were his favorite part of the orchard; the pretty shades of pink and orange. He couldn't bear to look at it now. It looked sickening, colors muddling and dripping off each other into an ugly metallic bronze.

His parents made them sit a seat apart from each other. From Zoe's tender gazes and glances, he knew she didn't blame him and she was worried. But it didn't matter. It didn't matter how kind and forgiving his perfect little sister was, there was no one to blame but himself.

Connor sat in silence the whole ride home.

 

* * *

 

 

That day sent it all into a downward spiral.

His parents were more watchful and they weren't allowed to play outside together anymore. As if they were scared Connor would hurt her again. If he was being honest, Connor was scared of that too.

Connor and Zoe grew more apart as the days dragged on. Eight year old Connor Murphy threw fits more often and snapped at his parents, or stayed holed up in his room by himself and locked the door. The days seemed to lose their spark, and it left him with a frustratingly dull feeling.

Zoe would often knock, her voice bright and cheerful. "C'mon Connie!" Zoe would call. "Lets go play pirates! Or make-over! I'm getting really good at French braiding! Please? Connor?"

There were times when Connor would almost crack, almost open the door and go to his sisters room and almost let her have her fun, glaring at her playfully when she pulled too hard on his hair and showering her with praise once his hair was done, just to make her smile. But he never did. He didn't want to get out of bed. His body felt heavy and his bed seemed to have a death grip on him, pleading him not to leave.

"No Zoe!" He remembers yelling back. "Leave me alone!"

"But-!"

"Go away!" He'd practically scream, yanking at his hair in his daze of fear and fury. He just remembered the trembling of his fists and the red in his vision. He rocked back and forth and clawed out small chunks of his hair. The pain burned his scalp, but it did the trick, the red slowly fading away and leaving him with only ringing in his head.

He didn't notice when Zoe stopped knocking on his door.

He didn't even notice when Zoe stopped trying at all.

 

* * *

               

Connor Murphy, a second grader, threw a printer at his teacher on the fourth week of school.

And no, it wasn't because of some "line-leader" bullshit. This teacher, Ms.Gline, had a knack for picking favorites and she despised Connor. One moment she was singling him out, _again_ , and she said the wrong thing and then Connor snapped.

"Honestly," She had mumbled under her breath. Connor, despite the ringing echoing warningly in his ears, heard every word, clear as day. "I don't know how some parents do it sometimes, having to care for such a troublesome child. I can only imagine what your sister must be like."

It was an overreaction and he knew it. But all at once that familiar red flooded his vision once again. His eyes landed on the small chunky printer on her desk and suddenly Ms.Gline was howling in pain and his classmates were shrieking and there were teachers and AP's rushing in to drag him out of the classroom, kicking and screaming.

Suspended for two weeks. His dad yelled and lectured him for a good solid half hour. It fell on deaf ears, Connor just focused his gaze on the floor, biting his lip until a sharp metallic taste settled on his tongue. He'd be damned if he cried in front of his dad. His screw ups just swirled in his mind like an open ballon, only with a infinite amount of air. Zoe watched from the stairwell, looking tired, worried, and scared.

Once his dad was done berating him, he rushed up the stairs, shoving past Zoe.

"Connor- wait!" Connor. It didn't sound right to Connor's ears. Zoe had called him "Con" or "Connie" her whole life at that point.

"Screw off, Zoe!" Connor yelled without looking back. He heard Zoe's breath hitch and his mother's gasp. Connor was already slamming and locking his bedroom door by the time his dad yelled, "What did you say young man?"

Even with the door closed, he heard the back and forth arguing with between his parents. He threw a pillow over his face and screamed until the tears began flowing.

 

* * *

 

 

His mom found him the first time.

He was in sixth grade; stretched out from frail and small to tall, lanky and awkward-looking. He was never popular in school after the printer incident, or "the time when Connor Murphy went batshit crazy and chucked a printer at a teacher in second grade because she wouldn't let him be line-leader", as his classmates dubbed it.

He was already being bullied, coming home with bruises or black eyes. His mom would demand to know what happened and it'll usually end with him yelling at her, throwing something and locking himself in his room to scratch or cut away his fury and emotional turmoil. His mom never commented on the swollen red marks or bandaids on his arms.

Zoe stopped talking to him, now glaring and snapping at him instead. That was fine by him. They'd cuss each other out at the dinner table sometimes. Sometimes Connor skipped dinner all together.

He wanted it all to stop, he wanted the pain to stop. He wanted to be normal. He wanted to be happy. He didn't want to be here.

He realized he didn't want to be alive anymore.

So Connor Murphy, aged twelve, grabbed a razor, locked himself in the bathroom, and tried to slit one of his wrists.

It failed for many reasons.

One, he didn't cut deep enough. The doctors later confirmed he was just a hair away from a vein. He never felt like such a failure.

Second, he didn't take the pain into account, holding back from full out screaming as he slashed open the skin. A choked out sob is all that escaped him, albeit a bit too loud.

Third, he forgot to run the bathtub, leaving him to just clutch his wrist reflexively and practically hyperventilate as the crimson liquid gathered on the bathroom floor.

Fourth. He forgot to lock the door.

And that's how Cynthia Murphy found her eldest child on the bathroom floor in tears, blood pooling onto the pristine white tiles.

"Connor!" She was screaming, running over to his side. She was already sobbing. Her voice seemed far-away and distant. He felt arms wrap around him and his mom continued her horrified shrieking. "Larry, get the car!"

Connor just stared up with wide eyes at his mom, who parted from the embrace to crash through the medicine cabinet above the sink. He was dizzy. He wondered if she would be too late? He hoped she never found the stupid gauze and he bled to death. She pulled out a thick roll of gauze. _Damn_.

She frantically wrapped his wrist, ignoring his winces and choked out cries. Zoe suddenly appeared in the doorway, eyes wide with horror. Connor could only stare at her helplessly while she stood frozen, tears spilling over her cheeks. He thought of how much of a failure she must think he is.

His mom followed his field of vision and turned to see Zoe, mortified. "Z-Zoe! Go get in the car with papa, okay? We need to take your brother to the hospital." Zoe's trance was broken and she choked out a tearful "okay" and ran off.

His mom turned back to him, the gauze already soaked through with blood. She grabbed a towel, pressed it to his wrist, and cupped her son's cheek.

"Connor sweetheart, listen to me. I need you to hold this towel to your wrists, okay? Don't let go of it. Can you do that for me?" She spoke softly. Her red eyes were pleading. Connor nodded numbly. The pain was just a throbbing ache now and black spots were swimming in his vision.

His mom swept him off the floor and carried him to the car, Larry clutching the steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip and failing to hide his own look of horror when he saw his son.

"Cynthia, Con-"

His mom jumped into the passanger seat, still cradling Connor in her arms. "Go Larry! We have to go!" He floored it and they sped down the streets, his mom running her fingers through his hair and sobbing tearful reassurances that everything would be alright.

He wishes he could believe her.

 

* * *

                 

After being released from the hospital, he endured over a dozen trips to the doctor and plenty psych evaluations, before finally he was given a diagnosis; Borderline Personality Disorder.

His dad refused to have him prescribed medication.

Connor wasn't surprised.    

 

* * *

                  

He didn't turn to drugs until freshman year of high-school.

By then, he wasn't being picked on anymore. He was still thin and tall, but his almost permanent scowl seemed to drive everyone away. He learned how to defend himself and fight back too, just in case some shitbag was stupid enough to try and land a blow. Not that he took any defense classes. He just learned from experience.

Still, no treatment meant no improvement. Connor had a total of two months of therapy before his dad became frustrated that he wasn't better yet and cut off the sessions.

Connor wanted the noise in his head to stop and he overheard some sophomore selling weed behind the school. _Fuck it, why not?_

He bought three sandwich baggies worth. He was in awe, really. It softened the loud ringing in his ears to a pleasant buzz in the back of his mind.

That, or make him go on a rampage, but that was rare.

He still remembers the first of many times he went to dinner high, his dad yelling angrily and his mom pleading.

"Cynthia, we're sending him off to a military camp! Thats enough of this bullshit!"

"Larry, please, he's ill!" She exclaimed. "It'll only make it worse, he needs help!"

Zoe suddenly stood up, slamming her hands down onto the table. Their parents shut up.

"Oh my fucking god! Mom, Dad, are you serious?! Look at him!" She flung out her arms towards Connor, who was occupying himself with glaring at all three of them. His eyes were tinted red. "He's not some poor injured kid! Camp or medication or whatever isn't gonna 'fix' him! You can't fix people! Just admit it, you two raised a fucking psychopath!"

Then suddenly Connor was chasing Zoe up the stairs, screaming that he was going to kill her. Zoe scrambled into her room, slammed her door shut and quickly locked it, but that didn't stop Connor from banging on her door, screaming thoughtless threats to break it down.

His dad grabbed him and shoved him away from her door, yelling at him. Connor didn't even know what his dad was saying, but he just yelled back while his mom pleaded desperately for both of them to stop.

Zoe has always kept her door locked ever since.

 

* * *

                 

"Hey, Connor! Lovin' the new hair length! Very 'school shooter' chic!"

Connor was already having a craptastic first day, and then Jared-fucking-Kleinman had to open his big fat mouth. He finished all his weed that morning too.

What a way to start off senior year.

He stopped walking, turning to stare menacingly at the shorter boy. He could see the uneasiness begin to gather in his eyes from behind his glasses. He felt a small surge of self-satisfaction.

"Uh...I was just kidding. It was a _joke_ , dude."

"Yeah, no, it was funny." Connor deadpanned, feeling the venom dropping from his own words. He hardened his glare and took a stride forward. "Am I not laughing hard enough for you?"

Students in the crowded hallway are whispering now, watching the scene unfold. He relishes in the way fear flickers in Jared's gaze for a split second before he chuckles and takes a step backwards. "You're _such_ a freak, man."

It really shouldn't hurt Connor as much as it does.

Those words always bothered him. _Freak_. _Psychopath_. _Weirdo_. _Crazy_. _Insane_. He hated them.

He feels his gut twist and he just watches blankly as Jared turns and struts off with a gait only the deeply insecure could master.

An awkward, breathy laugh comes from beside him, almost inaudible, and his eyes zeroed in immediately on Kleinman's little tag-along; the anxious quiet kid with muddy blond hair, a bare, chunky white cast, khaki's and a blue striped polo.

"What the fuck are you laughing at?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, this is my first real fic! I'm really excited, I've been working hard on writing this after this idea popped into my head after watching Groundhog Day and listening to the musical.
> 
> The plot will start rolling next chapter!


	2. Flying Blind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second week of Senior year and a beginning friendship.

"Connor! Get up!"

 His sisters yells were accompanied by his insistent alarm. Connor groaned, rolling over on his side to slam 'stop' on his blaring alarm. Zoe continued shouting. "You better not have hit snooze again!"

 "Shut the fuck up!" He hissed back, dragging his palms roughly down his face. He felt like absolute shit and he couldn't handle Zoe's screaming at the moment. He almost felt dizzy at the familiar wake-up call. Everyday seemed to be the same; get up, drop Zoe off, go to first period, ditch. He knew the drill. The familiar ringing was settled in the back of his ears, almost as if anticipating his unstable mood. A breakdown at least once a day was almost inevitable.  
Connor gave his phone a quick once-over, the lock screen a bit hard to see due to the nearly shattered screen (he threw it one too many times).

 Monday, August 14th, 6:46. The second week of senior year.

 He didn't have the motivation to get out of bed. He just wanted to sink into his old mattress and disappear for a while. He wanted disappear into thin air. But he knew it was impossible. And he knew if he didn't drag himself out of bed, _Zoe_ certainly would.  
He mustered up enough strength to get up, throwing on his usual layers; jeans, a button-up, a light sweater (all colored different shades of grays) and his usual heavy black jacket. He glanced to the thick bristled black brush on his nightstand. He just settled on running his hand through his hair and tugging until all the knots were broken. He never cared much about his appearance, not that it would matter to his classmates in the end anyways. Everything he did seemed to scare or freak anyone out anyways. Well, not that he couldn't admit it was his fault. He had a tendency to blow up at people and had his fair share of fights and visits to the school counselor.

 His thoughts began to wander to the nervous kid with the round face and blue polo from last week. _What was his name again_?

"Connor!" Zoe called again.

 "Alright! Jesus fucking-" His yells were overlapped with Larry's. "Connor! Language!"

 He stalked over to the end of his bed were his black bookbag sat, and slung it over his shoulder roughly. Connor almost left, but the jerking movement caused a folded sheet of paper to drift out from a torn pocket on the side of the shitty old bag. He took a moment to pick it up, unfolding it as he trudged down the stairs.

_Dear Evan Hansen,_

_Turns out today wasn't an amazing day after all. This isn't going to be an amazing week, or an amazing year because..._

Ah. Now he remembered.

 He couldn't help be feel guilty; Connor knew he was an asshole at times, but shit, he wasn't remorseless. He'd approached Hansen in the lab near the end of the first day of school to apologize for snapping and shoving him that morning, and things were going well. He even signed his goddamn _cast_! But then he read over his weird diary-like letters, saw Zoe's name, and flipped out. The poor kid looked like he was going into cardiac arrest as Connor screamed at him before storming out with a final, _'Fuck you'_ , taking the letter with him. Once he cooled off enough to think rationally, he found the rest of Hansen's letter to be very self-deprecating and lonely sounding. He probably seemed like such a dick.

 If he was being honest, he thought, deep down, they could've been friends. Hansen was the only kid lower than him on the school social latter, and he was withdrawn, quiet, and just as lonely and weird seeming as he was; except he didn't come off as an asshole. He was just an wild dumpster fire when it came to actually _engaging_ with other people. Maybe he hoped to find a friend too. Hell, he couldn't forget the hopeful look in his eyes when Connor signed his cast. He's probably the only one who didn't hate Connor. Or, _was_ the only one who didn't hate Connor. But then Connor had to go and scream at him and fuck everything up. What else was knew?

"Con-"

 "I get it Zoe!" He shouted, snapping out of his thoughts and shoving the letter into his pocket. _No, fuck that._ He wasn't going to chase after a friendship that's going to end with him fucking up a somewhat decent kid's life.

 Zoe sat at the kitchen's island with an untouched bowl of cornflakes, Larry was reading the newspaper, and Cynthia was scurrying around the stovetop, preparing a big breakfast that nobody was going to finish. They almost looked like a normal, stereotypical family.

Emphasis on _looked_.

 Larry looked up from the paper and fixed Connor with a stern look as soon as his socked feet hit the tiled kitchen floor. "We got a call from the school yesterday. You stopped showing up to your classes after third period, all through Tuesday and Friday."

 "Mhm." Connor yanked open the fridge and took a swig straight from the half-empty carton of milk, promptly ignoring his Cynthia's slightly scolding, 'Connor...' and Zoe's disgusted face. Out of spite, he chugged down the rest of the carton and shoved it into the garbage can.

 "So? What do you have to say for yourself?" Larry prodded.

 Connor shrugged. "Dunno. I mean, they're not wrong, but what do you expect me to say?"

 It was a sincere question. He honestly didn't know what his father expected of him. He didn't know what it would take to _please_ him.

 Larry's jaw tightened, obviously trying to hold back his anger. "Don't get smart with me. We've discussed this, Connor."

 "I don't really think yelling back and forth from other ends of the house count as 'discussing', Dad." Zoe mumbled, stirring her spoon idly as it clicked against the sides of the cereal bowl.

"Zoe, honey-" Cynthia tried.

"Am I wrong-?"

 "Thank you, Zoe!" Connor cut in, waving a hand towards her. "See? _Sometimes_ , she knows what's she's talking about!"

 "Sometimes?" Zoe's stare hardened, but before she could open her mouth to cuss Connor out, Cynthia placed a gentle hand on Zoe's shoulder. "Finish your food, you don't want to be late to school!" Though Cynthia's tone seemed chipper, it was forced, and pleading. Zoe, hesitantly, went back to picking at her soggy cornflakes, the restrained retaliation still evident in her tense shoulders.

 "Connor, you can't keep doing this. Once you're out of highschool, we're not going to be babying you anymore!" Larry snapped, "Do you even know what the hell are you're going to do with your life?"

 He knew _exactly_ what he was going to do after high school. But he couldn't tell them that. "Anything to get out of this hellhole of a household, for sure."

 "Don't be such a _dick_!" Zoe finally spat from the island, dropping her spoon with a loud 'clank'.

 "Don't be such a _bitch_!" Connor snarled back, hands curling into tight, trembling fists.

 "Zoe, Connor, _please_!" Cynthia shouted over them. Other than Larry's paper crinkling, the heavy silence fell over the kitchen. A small beep broke through the quiet and Cynthia glanced at her watch. "Ah. You kids better head off."

 Zoe shoved away from the island and snatched up her lavender bag, adorned with key chains and charms, and slung her guitar case over her shoulder. Connor pulled on his black sneakers, snatched up his keys and made a bee-line for the door, just wanting to escape the conversation with his father as Zoe trailed behind him. They passed by the huge, rectangular mirror that hung the hall as they went, and Connor couldn't help but sneak a peak.

 Zoe, appearance and personality wise, was a _stark_ contrast to Connor's. She had a tendency for sass and sarcasm, yes, but she was popular, pretty, and very social with her peers. With soft brown hair pulled away from her face by star-shaped clips, light skin with colored cheeks and soft features, she'd come off as warm and friendly, and she was kind to almost everyone. Connor was her polar opposite; he was the _school shooter_ , the _freak_ , branded as the kid who cut himself and wore black, with sickly pale skin, sharp features and bags under his eyes.

 Disgusted by himself, he quickly turned away from the mirror and swung open the door sharply.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
 Car rides with Zoe were always tense. If not for Zoe lacking a ride to school, she wouldn't step foot in the same vehicle as him. She hated his reckless driving. But for now, she was stuck with him and his beat up old as shit four seater.

 They never got along as they did as kids anymore. They _weren't_ kids anymore.

 She sat stiffly in the passenger seat, leaning against the window and staring out at the passing houses and street signs, only moving in her seat when he starting speeding or slammed a little too hard on the breaks, causing her to jerk forward and glare at him as if he did it on purpose.

 "You're gonna get in an accident one of these days." She mumbled, still refusing to look at him.

 "Good," He sighed. "Maybe then you'll be happy I'm out of your hair."

 Zoe's gaze snapped up immediately and she fixed him with a hateful glare. After his first attempt, she'd gotten sensitive about that stuff. "Don't talk about that shit like it's all a big joke!"

 He felt a flicker of guilt bud in his chest for an instant. Connor couldn't forget how horrible that night had been, and he remember how _scared_ Zoe seemed. He'd always feel guilty, how his mother _cried_ , his dad _panicked_ , and Zoe...

It shouldn't matter anymore.

 He slammed on the breaks as they pulled into the school parking lot. "We're here. Get out."

 Zoe stared at him for a moment with furrowed eyebrows, an unreadable expression on her face, before she huffed and grabbed her backpack and guitar. She let the door slam behind her as she walked on towards the school doors without him. Connor brushed it off, taking his bookbag and snatching his keys back to lock the car. As he walked into the school, he shoved his keys in his pocket and hissed when he felt a sudden sharpness connect with his fingers. _The fuck_?

 He pulled out the offending item and found it was Hansen's folded up letter, the edges slightly crinkled and sharp. _Oh_. He'd forgotten about that in his pocket.

 A shoulder suddenly clipped his own and he winced, whirling around. "What the fuck is your-"

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

 Evan-fucking-Hansen stood there, casted hand, with the large, scrawled on 'CONNOR' in all its glory, tugging on the bottom of his polo, eyes wide and mouth gaping like a fish. Connor would've usually laughed at such an expression, but Evan's face was quickly draining of color, his eyes widening further with fear and shoulders hunching painfully-so, making his form seemingly cave in on itself. His arms moved up to clutch his forearms, nails digging into his own skin. _Didn't that hurt?_

 " _O-Oh_! Oh my g-god, Connor, I-I'm so sorry, I-uh, I didn't see you, it was t-totally 100-percent me, I wasn't paying attention, um, I'm-!"

 As Evan scrambled to stutter out his apologies, his face was getting considerably redder and redder, his hands were beginning to tremble, and his breath was hitching, nails most likely to break the skin if he dug them any further. _Fuck_.

 Connor felt the ringing in his ears rise and clutched the letter in his hand tighter. People began whispering as they noticed and watched what unfolded between the _freak_  who had a panic attack during a public speaking assignment and the _psychopath_ who threw a printer at a teacher in second grade. The guilt was piling on and on. Connor didn't mean to blow up at the guy, and the fact that Evan was so terrified of him was making him feel shittier and shittier. He couldn't bear to watch him give the same kid a panic attack for the third time in two weeks. He wanted the people to stop whispering, he wanted the people to stop staring, he wanted Hansen to stop hyperventilating, he wanted the ringing to _stop_ , _stop_ _stop_ _stop_ _stop_ -

So, he did something on impulse.

 "I actually wanted to see you again to apologize!" Connor blurted out, a little too loudly.

  _What the fuck are you doing_?! A voice inside his head screamed at him, but that seemed to be enough to snap Evan out of his downward spiral. The blond's breath caught and he stood there for a beat, blinking as he steadily caught his breath. "I-I, why-"

 "Also, shut the fuck up for a minute because I'm literally a ticking time bomb." Connor cut in again sharply. Evan blanched, mouth immediately snapping shut and pressing into a tight line. Okay, people were definitely watching and whispering now, but the ringing was subsiding and Hansen didn't look like he had just sprinted three football fields anymore.

 "I'm gonna start by saying, I'm an asshole, okay." A confused expression crossed Evan's face. "Don't give me that look Hansen! You know you agree with me."

Connor took a steadying breath. 

"Anyways, in the computar lab, I tried to apologize for shoving you in the hall, and, uh, did the exact opposite of what I had in mind. So, I, uh-" He unfolded the letter and smoothed it out as best as he could. "Should just give this back to you, at least. It's not for me to read."

 At the sight of the letter, Evan's face reddened and he quickly took it from Connor's hands, shoving it in his pocket. "Ah, u-um, thank you-thanks."

 Connor recognized a few people watching them. Zoe was _definitely_ one, staring in disbelief, and Jared Kleinman off to the side, eyes wide and looking as if he was having a really bad acid trip. He promptly ignored them and took as few steps back. "So I'm just gonna...go now. And," He winced at his own awkwardness. "Again, I'm a dick and uh-sorry about all that shit."

 The first bell blared through the speakers and as the crowd of people dispersed, he quickly whirled around and sped to class.  
.  
.  
.  
.

_  
Real fucking smooth._

 Connor honestly didn't know what came over him to actually apologize, but it was probably just guilt. His chest felt considerably lighter and the ringing subsided in his ears. And, being in a good mood, he even decided to stay at school the rest of the day. Of course, nothing could beat ditching to sketch and smoke weed at the orchard, but he found that he didn't mind class that much.

 _He was starting to suspect he had entered the Twilight Zone_.

 But, staying in school meant he found out he shared a few classes with Hansen. As Connor was being berated by his history teacher for taking a nap in the back of the classroom, his gray-blue eyes darted up to meet Evan's brown-green ones, three rows in front of him and staring straight at him. In the split second their eyes were locked, Evan's face immediately turned scarlet and he turned around so quickly Connor was surprised the kid didn't get whiplash. _Okay_ , kinda weird, but Connor thought nothing of it.

 He also had to sit through the blond  _painfully_ stuttering his way through a 'speech' in English. Before he could get a coherent sentence out, his notecards went spilling out of his hands and scattered all over the tiled floor. Some kids snickered and Evan just stood there, frozen, with a horrified expression, twisting the hell out of the hem of his stupid blue polo (seriously, how many of those did he have?).

 After Evan had picked up his notecards and fired off a barrage apologies, their teacher quickly let him escape to the nurse's office. Probably to prevent him from passing out or dying from asphyxiation.

Damn, this kid was really pathetic.  
.  
.  
.  
.

  
 Eventually, though, Connor had enough school for the day and snuck out after sixth period (a new record) to hide out in his car, idly tapping his pencil against the dashboard to a beat only he could hear. Zoe had jazz band practice, but she usually dumped her bag into the back of Connor's car before practice and got a ride home from one of her friends, so he'd hung back to wait for her.

 All in all, the day was surprisingly not as shitty as usual. Kleinman kept his mouth shut, oddly, his teachers tolerated him because ' _thank god he's at least attending class_ ', and he cleared the air with Hansen. Somewhat.

 Fuck, who was he kidding, that was a half-assed apology.

 A tap at the window startled him out of his thoughts and Zoe stood there, slightly miffed. He unlocked the door and she opened the backseat to toss her bag in. "Don't tell me you're already high-" She started.

 "As if I'd be stupid enough to drive home high. Again."

 A small snicker. "You really banged the shit out of the mailbox. Dad was pissed."

 "Yeah," Connor couldn't help but chuckle. Even laughing with Zoe? Today was an odd day.

 The laughter soon stopped and car was quickly filled with heavy, awkward silence.

"I should, uh, jazz band-"

"Oh, yeah, yeah-"

 "Yeah," Zoe parroted back, clutching her guitar case. "See 'ya, Connor."

 The door shut and the car was filled with thick silence once more. Well.

 He sighed, shifting the gear to pull out of the lot, turning up the radio to some random rock song. As he drove towards the school's exit, he noticed a smudgy blue figure in his rear-view mirror. _What the..._

 _Holy fuck_. Evan Hansen stood awkwardly at the front of the school, seemingly typing frantically at his weird, off-brand cell phone. There seemed to be no parents or students within miles.

_Keep driving, Connor._

Evan seemed really freaked out.

_Keep driving._

Did his parents forget about him?

_Keep. Driving._

What if nobody comes to get him?

_Keep-_

 Connor made a quick, most likely illegal u-turn. _Oh fuck it_. Connor had no idea what about this kid made him feel obligated to be nice. Maybe because he didn't piss Connor off entirely? _Maybe because of just how pathetic he was? Was it just pity?_

 Whatever it was, it didn't matter, because he was already pulling up to the curb with nothing to lose.

 Evan nearly jumped five feet in the air, phone dropping to the cemete in the process. It didn't shatter, surprisingly. Connor rolled down the window, turning down the music. "Hey, Hansen? Do you have a ride?"

 Evan was silent for a moment, picking his phone up from the ground, fidgeting with the key pad. "Uh, a-actually, I-um, my mom couldn't pick me up and I've been-sorry-trying to message J-Jared, but ah, he uh, probably put his phone on silent and forgot. About me. Probably."

 "Could I see?" Connor asked, leaning over the passenger seat towards the open window. Evan blinked, carefully handing over his phone. Connor examined it for a moment and couldn't help but chuckle. _A white phone case littered with adorable, tiny green pine trees_. He tapped at the screen. "Uh, dude. You have no service. They must've turned off the school wifi."

 Evan turned blushed a beet red, something Connor noticed he did a lot. "O-oh, right! Y-y-yeah! Ha-ha! I knew t-that!" Evan was laughing awkwardly, pulling at the hem of his shirt. It sounded painfully forced, and Connor couldn't help but cringe internally as he handed back his phone.

 "I could lend you my hotspot? Or just drop you off at your house?" Connor suggested before he could stop himself. Evan blinked again, fingers fidgeting with the buttons on his phone. "U-um, that would be, th-that is! If you're okay with it-! Um-" Evan scrambled, but Connor cut in before the poor kid hurt himself. "Hansen, chill. I wouldn't be offering if it wasn't fine with me. It's really no problem."

 Evan seemed to think it over for a brief moment, before nodding. Connor unlocked the door and Evan quickly wiped his palm onto his khakis _(weird?)_ before grabbing onto the door handle, climbing into the passenger seat and buckling his seatbelt, cradling his plain gray backpack between his chest and his cast. He sat stiffly in his usual hunched posture and Connor pulled away from the curb, holding his own phone out to Evan. "Could you type in your address? I have no idea where the fuck I'm going."

 Evan practically lunged for the phone and jammed in the digits frantically. "O-oh, I'm sorry! Sorry, I should've-ah, t-told you before I-sorry."

"Hansen, its fine, stop apologizing." His patience was beginning to run dangerously thin.

"Sorry-"

" _Hansen_."

"O-oh, I'm-"

 "If you say sorry one more time I'm gonna drop you off on the side of the road." Connor said sharply. Evan shut up quickly, biting down on his lip. _Fuck_. The car ride was quiet, save for the few directions given by siri. Connor sighed, pushing his hair out of his face and leaning over the turn up the radio to fill the heavy silence. He took a few deep breaths to relax; the last thing he wanted was to yell again and make Evan cry or some shit. Soon, Connor noticed some tension slip out of Evan's shoulders. Not much, but something.

 "Uh, does music relax you?" Connor asked cautiously. He needed to keep his cool before he undid all his progress with this kid. Evan nodded meekly, picking at his cast. "Y-yeah. I'd usually s-sneak off to the library during lunch and bring my earbuds and just listen to my music-it really helps that the library is so quiet too! The librarian doesn't mind, I don't think. I-I don't usually listen to songs like this, I have mostly piano instrumentals and musical or movie soundtracks, they really helps me calm down at times. N-not that this song isn't _nice_ or _calming_! I actually really-um, like it."

 Connor sat there for a moment, attempting to process the amount of information thrown at his face at rocket speed.

 "Y'know, for an such an anxious kid, you sure talk a lot. And fast."

 Evan stiffened again, dipping his head at an odd angle, almost like a bow. "U-um, I'm s-ImeanyouknowhatImean."

 Connor waved a hand dismissively. "No, no, that's not a bad thing. You should talk more often."

 Evan shifted to face more towards Connor. And there it was. That hopeful look in Evan's eyes that Connor remembered when he signed his cast. "Y-you think so?" Connor nodded. Evan's stare lingered a moment longer, as if he couldn't believe that Connor was really saying that. He finally let out a quiet, " _Oh_ ", and turned back to face the dashboard. The car was silent once more, but it seemed less suffocating. More... _natural_ and comfortable.

 A painfully loud growl from the passengers side made Connor glance over as they stopped at a red light.

 Evan squeaked, face up in flames and hugged his backpack tighter to his chest. Connor almost smiled.

"Hungry?"

 Evan shot upright, back suddenly straight and at attention. " _N-no_! I mean-pff, who doesn't? Eat? I did! Ha!" Evan was sweating. Connor cringed. _God_ , he was horrible at lying.

 "Do you at least have food at home?" Connor asked, flexing his grip on the steering wheel. Evan's shoulders slumped, seemingly given up and nodded mutely. "I have-uh, my mom leaves money for pizza?" He mumbled sheepishly.

 Connor fixed him with narrowed eyes. "You're gonna order, right?"

"Y-y-yeah!"

"Bullshit, Hansen."

The light turned green.

 Connor pressed on the pedal steadily, gaze flicking to Evan for a few moments before he realized. "I'm no expert, but it's kinda obvious. You got some kind of anxiety disorder, right?"

Evan looked mortified.

 "It's fine. We all have our issues." Connor shrugged. "If you're scared of answering the door or something, I could stay and do it." He suggested. Evan's gaze flicked to his for a second, before flicking back down to the floor.

"A-are you-"

 "Yes, Hansen, I'm okay with it." Connor sighed. "I'd do _anything_ if it means I don't have to go home for a bit."

 Evan looked at Connor fully now, eyebrows furrowed in concern for a moment. "What's wrong with your house?"

"It's none of your business, Hansen."

"But Connor-"

"Evan. _Drop it_."

 Evan didn't look scared or apologize like he usually did; if anything, he looked more concerned, but stopped asking questions there.

_'Your destination is on the right.'_

 "Hey look, we're here." Connor said, unlocking the doors and snatching his keys out of the keyhole. His temper seemed on thin ice right now, but he felt himself cooling off fairly quickly. _Huh_.

 It was a small, reddish-brown house with brown roof tiles and a brown, wooden door with a thick, glass window. The bushes seemed overgrown and tiny wildflowers were growing in the flowerbeds. It was cute, and simple.

 "Do you have a key?" Connor asked. Evan fumbled with his backpack pockets around his chunky cast before pulling out a small silver key with a _Wolverine_ logo on it. Connor couldn't help but smirk. "You really are a nerd, aren't you?"

 Connor thought he might actually kill this kid with embarrassment, so he quickly added, "I mean, I wanted to dress up as Spider-Man, like, every Halloween, so I can't really talk."

 Evan seemed to laugh a little at that. "S-Spider-Man? Isn't he, like, the most basic M-Marvel superhero?"

 "Shut your fucking mouth Hansen! Wolverine is OP as fuck anyways! I won't standby and take this slander of my childhood idol!" Connor snapped back defensively, trying not to smile. He failed.

 Evan burst into wheezy laughter, clutching his sides and snorting as Connor held back his own shaky giggles and tried not to piss himself. Evan almost dropped his key down the sewer drain in the process, sending Evan scrambling to grab it and wincing in pain at the sudden jostle of his cast. They probably looked like idiots; wheezing and cackling over a comment about _Marvel_ characters on the side of the road.

 Connor snorted, helping Evan back on his shaky legs. His sides ached from laughing so much and his cheeks already hurt from smiling. It _has_ been a while. "Okay," he wheezed. "Let's just go inside and order some damn pizza."

 Evan's house was small. The entrance was narrow with a small shoe cubby off to the left, and a coat rack to the right. Stuck to the wall was a key hanger and photographs lined the cream colored walls in neat rows.

 "S-sorry, it isn't much, but-" Evan shrugged. He was considerably more relaxed than before, slipping out of his shoes and trekking across the wooden floor in his socks. Connor shrugged off his heavy black jacket and considered just throwing it on the floor. He chose the more polite option of hanging it on the coat rack.

 "It's...nice. Cozy. I like it." Connor remarked, following Evan down the hallway. He came to a slow pace as he scanned the photographs on the wall. The first being a framed photo of a pretty woman with curled blonde hair and bright green-blue eyes, with a man, tall, almost black hair, with dark brown eyes. In between them was undoubtedly a three or four year old Evan, with adorably unruly hair, a missing tooth, and the woman's hand grasping his shoulder gently. They were all smiling.

 The rest were nothing unusual; in a grassy backyard, the woman (who had to be Evan's mom) smiling at the camera as her son held her hand with one and dropped seeds into a small hole with the other. The man (presumably Evan's dad), held up Evan on his shoulders, who was decked out in an old fashioned Wolverine costume and making a scrunched up snarl-like face. As the photos went on, he noticed the brunette man had stopped showing up in the photos, the pretty women looked much more tired and was becoming faintly familiar-looking, _strangely_ , and Evan's smiles became more sweaty, awkward-looking, and _forced_.

 Connor heard Evan clear his throat and looked up to see that the blonde had stopped, looking to the floor and wringing his shirt. Connor hadn't even realized he'd stopped walking. U-um, let's keep going."

 He wasn't gonna argue. Connor followed, careful not to glance at the pictures. They were clearly a sensitive topic.

 Evan turned into the kitchen, where twenty-dollar bill sat on the counter.

"I-I! Can, uh, order online? I just need help with the delivery person. Because of m-my, uh... _anxiety_." Connor didn't like the way Evan said 'anxiety'. As if it were a dirty word. As if he were _ashamed_. "I don't, uh, like talking to people."

 _No shit_ , Connor thought. He crossed through kitchen to a small living room, adorned only with a gray-brown couch and a soft-looking gray chair. He found that the whole house had soft colors and was easy on the eyes. It felt...homely. He plopped down onto the gray couch, raising an eyebrow. "But, when you order it online you don't really have to talk to people?"

 Evan laughed nervously. "N-no, see, my mom said that too, y-you actually have to talk to the delivery person when they come to the door, a-and then they have to make change, and you have to stand there while it's silent and they're counting the change and-"

 "Alright, alright, I get it man." Connor chuckled. "Just order already."

 One order and one lackluster exchange of words with the delivery guy and Connor was pushing a half-pepperoni (at Connor's request) and half-pineapple into Evan's arms.

 "Take that abomination, you heathen."

 "I-I'm Jewish! And pineapple on p-pizza is perfectly fine!"

 "Ugh." Connor flopped back down onto the couch, head tilted towards the ceiling.

 "Connor..." Evan started, only to be cut off by said boy. "UGH."

 Evan snickered. "W-who knew Connor Murphy was so dramatic?" He mumbled. Connor snapped and shot the boy finger guns. "It's a living, baby."

 Evan laughed again, opening the box and passing Connor a paper plate. "W-well, are you gonna eat your pepperoni or not?"

.  
.  
.  
.

 "-And my dad was _soo_ fucking pissed! Honestly, what was he expecting when we asked if we could paint his nails? Zoe was dying! He had to show up to, like, three meetings in hot pink nail polish!" Connor exclaimed through snorts while Evan covered his mouth with his hand, sniggering.

 Once demolishing the pizza, Evan and Connor just sat on the couch, swapping random memories and stories. It was sickeningly domestic-feeling, a unfamiliar feeling that Connor was still trying to decide if he liked. He certainly _felt_ better. Better than he had in a long time. It was weird, talking so openly to someone he barely knew. But he enjoyed it. It was nice, to just sit back and laugh and vent and eat pizza with someone who seemed like they genuinely _enjoyed_  his presence. Connor found that in Evan.

 "Okay, you heard enough about my shit. So, trees?" Connor asked. Evan had been previously rambling non-stop about things that made him calmer, and anything plant related seemed to be a reoccurring topic. Evan's eyes lit up and he gestured wildly with his hands. "Y-yeah! Over the summer, I worked as an apprentice park ranger at E-Ellison State Park, and I'm sort of a tree expert now! Um, n-not to brag or anything."

 Connor smiled at that. _Tree expert. Cute_.

 "Anyways! I worked there all summer and basically hung out in the woods on my break. The forest is really comforting and the trees there are huge! And really strong, too! C-climbing trees has always been a hobby of mine and it was always really fun to-" Evan stopped suddenly, his eyes suddenly unfocused and lowering to the ground. His hands dropped to his lap and began fidgeting with his cast. "T-then, I uh, fell."

 Connor looked to Evan, eyebrows furrowed. The blond's gaze was downcast, back hunched in the same posture as that morning in the hallway. He was closing in on himself. "Hansen?"

 Evan didn't respond, just tightened his grip on his cast. Connor was sitting up now, " _Hey_ -"

 They suddenly heard the front door swing open and Connor jumped to his feet. Evan nearly fell off the couch.

 "Evan, honey, I'm home-" The familiar-looking woman with blonde hair from the photos emerged from the hallways, dropping her bag and keys on the table. Her hair was pulled back into a half ponytail and she wore wrinkled hospital scrubs. A face finally matched up with a memory. An unpleasant memory.

 His second attempt was in the summer before his sophomore year. An overdose. With a baggie of weed and stolen blood pressure medication, he ran off to a neighborhood park, gotten high, and tried to off himself. But he had the worst of luck; a couple of joggers had found him just as he began seizing.

 " _They're attending a medical school,_ " He remembered being told by his nurse. A kind, gentle-speaking woman with blonde hair. She had a knowing look. " _If not for them, I'm not sure you would've survived._ " He also remembers the woman's glares and sharp words towards his father, when Larry began berating him for "seeking attention".

 Connor froze upon eye contact. And judging by the expression on her face, Ms.Hansen recognized him too. There was a brief silence. Evan blinked at the two, coughing to catch his mom's attention.

 "Oh. Evan!" The woman looked from Evan, and then to Connor, and back to Evan. She briefly gestured to the name on Evan's cast. "You didn't tell me your friend was over!"

 Evan flushed. "O-oh, sorry, I-I-I forgot to t-text y-"

 "Evan, it's alright." His Mom replied gently. "I'm just...surprised." She quickly strode across the room with such confidence, it was hard to see the resemblance she held with Evan in that moment. She stuck out her hand to Connor, with a tired, but genuine smile. "It's...nice to meet you. I'm Heidi Hansen, Evan's mom."

 Connor suddenly felt vulnerable. He felt smaller, though he topped the blonde woman by at least a couple of inches. He cautiously took her hand. "It's nice to meet-" He cut off with a yelp of surprise as she pulled him into a quick hug. _Oh_.

 After a moment, Connor pulled back awkwardly and Evan stared on towards the exchange, baffled. Heidi's gaze flicked to the empty pizza box. "I take it you took care of my son for the day?" She joked with a smile. Evan flushed and shuffled in his socks and Connor gave a small, polite laugh. This woman intimidated him like no other.

 Heidi made her way to the kitchen. "Do you think you could stay a bit longer for coffee or something? That is, if you don't have to go home-"

 Almost on cue, Connor's phone buzzed loudly, making Evan jump and Connor flinch. He sighed and pulled out his phone, surprised to find a string of texts sent by Zoe. He hadn't heard his phone going off the whole time he talked to Evan.

 _ Zo, 3:55 pm _  
_yo, asshole, where r u_

 _ Zo, 3:55 pm _  
_hannah was absent today, so I got a ride from alana but where tf r u moms freaking out_

Zo, 3:59 pm  
_I swear 2 god if u passed out @ the park again_

 _ Zo, 4:13 _  
_WHERE R U_

_Zo, 4:58pm_   
_okay im searching the park_

_Zo, 5:16pm_   
_nope not there okay_

_Zo, 6:47_   
_well wherever u r dads probably gonna kill u when u get back so good luck u prick_

Connor sighed. He wasn't looking forward to that conversation. "Actually, I, uh, gotta go." Disappointed expression crossed both Hansen's faces and, yeah, they looked almost identical.

 "Alright, Connor. Just know, our home is open for you anytime." Heidi said gently, almost knowingly, and left down the hallway. Connor nodded and cast a glance toward Evan, who was fidgeting with his hands and seemingly having an internal battle with himself. "Um...this was fun, Hansen." Connor shrugged. He mumbled a small, " _uh, bye_ ", and walked to the door to pull on his sneakers and jacket. Evan followed him mutely, standing off to the side, fidgeting with his fingers as Connor gathered his things. He had opened the door and hadn't got one foot out before Evan blurted loudly. "C-c-can I get your, uh, n-number?"

 Connor just blinked in disbelief for a moment, and he guesses that was the wrong thing to do, as Evan jumps to the wrong conclusion and turns a brighter red than he'd ever seen. "N-not like in a gay way! Uh, not that's there's anything wrong with being gay! I'm n-not assuming! I-I, uh, just in, c-case, uh-"

 Connor burst into laughter, and Evan's rambling ceased, the blonde soon joining in with awkward chuckles. "Really, it's fine," Connor wheezed, "You don't have to 'no homo' your way out of that! I was just surprised you want to talk to me of all people."

 Evan eyebrows furrowed. "What's so wrong about talking to you?"

 Connor just shook his head. "Give me your phone, nerd." Evan handed his phone over and Connor entered his contact, quickly googling 'trees', clicking on the first photo and setting it as Evan's profile picture. He entered his own contact info into Evan's phone, simply putting, 'Connor', and passing it back to Evan. The blonde looked as his he was trying to hold back a beam. "Um, see you tomorrow Connor?"

 Connor couldn't help but smirk and give a small wave. "Yeah. See ya, Hansen."  
.  
.  
.  
.  
 His parents were certainly pissed. "Young man! Where have you been?" Larry demanded. Connor decided to play it dumb for now, and shrugged. "Out." He replied.

 "That's not an answer Connor, where have you been?" Cynthia stepped in.

 "If he wasn't high off his ass in the park, he could've been in Narnia for all we know." Zoe grumbled.

 "Wow, fucking rude," Connor snorted, ignoring Cynthia's stern, 'Language...' and dropping his bag by the door. "For your information, I was at a _friend's_ house." Friend. Still seemed foreign. The disapproval in Cynthia's eyes quickly melted away into joy. "A friends house? Oh _Connor_ , that's _wonderful_!"

 "Cynthia, his 'friend' could be a crack-head for all we know, a drug dealer!" Larry spoke up. That made Connor laugh. It reminded him of Evan scolding Connor sternly for 'smoking drugs', after he admitted his liking for pot. "Hell no, _Mr.Goody-Two-Shoes_ Hansen wouldn't touch that shit with a 50 yard long pole."

 "Wait, Hansen?" Zoe gaped in disbelief. "As in Evan Hansen-?"

 "Well, this was nice, but y'know," Connor interrupted, "Tired, long day, etcétera, etcétera, goodnight!"

 "Connor Hayden Murphy! We're not finished yet-"

 Connor quickly closed his door and locked it, sighing and landing in his bed with a huff. He wasn't lying. Truly, he was exhausted. But in a good way. All and all, the day was good, and he'd needed one of those. He fished his phone out of his pocket, thumbing Evan's contact.

_You, 8:33 pm  
hey nerd_

_tree kid, 8:34 pm  
Oh, hi Connor!_

_You, 8:34 pm  
so you gonna finish that tree rant or what_

 Connor fell asleep with his phone against his pillow at 10pm, exchanging texts with Evan until he passed out.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
_Dear Evan Hansen,_

 _Wow. Today was...different. A good different. Connor Murphy approached you today and said he was sorry for blowing up at you. Twice. And gave back your previous therapy letter he stole. I hope he didn't read it. It's ~~pathetic~~ humiliating._  
_You saw Connor after school too and he drove you home and ordered you pizza. Also wow._  
_Connor, deep down, doesn't seem like a bad person. I know he probably sees himself as one, but I liked talking to him. He seems nice. He just seemed to ~~relate~~ understand._  
_All and all, I had fun. Today was a good day. I hope tomorrow will be just as good. Maybe...this will be a good year._

_Sincerely, your best and most dearest friend,_

_Me._

Evan Hansen finished up his letter just as Connor texted him. He smiled and messaged him almost instantly back.

They were both unaware. They both smiled and chuckled, blissfully oblivious to what was coming. A storm was brewing. And it would strike tomorrow.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck I'm finally done
> 
> This chapter was originally supposed to be a span of two days but damn it's longer than I thought it would be, didn't even have time to proof read ugh im dying,, Definitely having a lot of fun with this one tho!!
> 
> Also Connor was listening to The Front Bottoms in his car you can't convince me otherwise
> 
> Here's Evan's hc phone case btw djgj its so cute: https://madebywallflower.com/products/hawke-for-samsung-galaxy
> 
> So yeah this is gonna have long ass chapters okay bye


	3. Step Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The calm before the storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I'm super sorry it's taken so long to post this chapter. I hit a pretty hard writers block and I've also been crazy busy with my high school play /we're doing les mis/
> 
> Secondly, I'm sorry, it's a SUPER slow burn. There might be more chapters than I thought, so I'm sorry, but if you're into faster paced fics, this probably isn't for you.
> 
> Still, I've picked it back up and I'm working on the next chapter now! Take this fluff and appreciate it, because the shit hits the fan next chapter. Thank you for all the support!

Connor woke up in an extremely good mood.

Needless to say, he was pleasantly surprised with this realization. He had the motivation to look through his closet a pick out a clean outfit, albeit all gray layers still accompanied by his heavy jacket, and he even brushed his hair, putting a few hair ties on his wrist just in case. It tended to fluff up when he brushed it and sometimes got in his way. He felt good, despite the slight pains in his neck from falling asleep texting. Zoe or his mom must've come into his room too; his phone had been plugged into the charger. He gave it a glance.

_Tuesday, August 15th, 6:10 am._

_Damn, he even woke up before his alarm!_

It was rare when he woke up well-rested, the soft ringing in his mind almost forgettable, that left him feeling, overall, lighter. He phone buzzed a few times in his pocket, and he couldn't even bring himself to care. His entire body felt like a feather, like a rock sinking in his chest was just hoisted off. So Connor was damn near clicking his heels and bursting into song as he went downstairs for breakfast.

He phone buzzed again pocket and he finally pulled it out, finding a notification for an iPhone update and a few texts from Evan. He was smiling now.

"Oh, Connor! I take it you slept well?" Cynthia asked with a chuckle from the stovetop and he smirked with a pep in his step. Zoe was watching his stride towards the kitchen with an mildly amused expression and Larry was staring at him as if he'd grown two heads overnight.  
"Mhm," Connor hummed lazily, sliding into a seat at the breakfast table and opening his messages. It was less depressing to see someone actively texting him among the dead conversations in his phone. It was a nice change opposed to the usual conversations with Zoe, who only texted him when she suspected him being high or passed out in a ditch, and Alana Beck, a talkative oddball, but relatively nice girl who he shared a class in Chemistry with and worked on a project in English with him. They got an A+, he remembered; she was an honor-roll student after all, and he often went to her for homework and notes (which was often with how much he skipped). He tapped Evan's contact and read the few messages.

_tree kid, 6:14 am  
Hi Connor! I just wanted to say thank you for yesterday. I had fun._

_tree kid, 6:17 am  
Wait, you're not asleep are you?_

_tree kid, 6:17 am  
Oh that's a stupi dquestion you wouldn't be able to answer sorry_

_tree kid, 6:21 am  
Im gonna stop texting you before I wake you up I'm so sorry_

Connor snickered. He could almost hear Evan and that damned stutter of his, even through text. He thumbed back a response fairly quickly.

_You, 6:24 am  
its fine hansen i wasnt asleep_

_You, 6:24 am  
i had fun too_

_tree kid, 6:25  
Oh, okay! I just wanted to say thanks. I'm glad you had fun!_

Connor watched in anticipation as the three dots in Evan's contact appeared and reappeared, almost as if the typing was hesitant.

_tree kid, 6:28 am  
Do you want to sit together at lunch? I usually eat in the library, but I think I could handle the cafeteria if you were there?_

_tree kid, 6:28 am  
It's probably really weird and I know you already sit with your own friends_

  
Connor couldn't find an explanation to why his heart sped up for a moment at the offer. Which was...odd. Though, he also couldn't find it in him to correct Evan and tell him he didn't really have any other friends.

_You, 6:30 am  
its not weird_

_You, 6:30 am  
id like that_

"Who are you texting?" Cynthia placed down a plate of eggs and toast in front of him. He quickly shut off his phone and slid it under his arm, screen faced down. Cynthia practically blinded Connor with her beam. "Your new friend?"

"His _only_ friend," Zoe stated, looking up to gauge Connor's reaction. Connor shrugged and rolled his eyes. She wasn't _wrong_ , and he was in too good of a mood to fire back at her. He scarfed down about half of his breakfast before Cynthia's watch was beeping and Zoe was whining about them being late. Hell, he wasn't complaining. Half a meal was better than no meal. His mind flashed back to yesterday. _Speaking of meals..._

He opened the fridge and grabbed a container of leftover lasagna Cynthia cooked the night before. Granted, it was gluten-free and had an odd, almost burnt taste to it, but he figured Evan wouldn't mind. If Evan was willing to tolerate _him_ , the least he could do was make sure the boy ate that day. He shoved it in his bag, grunting a small 'bye' to his parents. Larry hummed in response, while Cynthia called after her kids. "Love you two! Have a good day! Say hi to Kevin for me, Connor!"

"His name's _Evan_!" Zoe called back, closing and locking the door before following Connor to the car.

.  
.  
.  
.

Zoe was already in the passenger's seat, seatbelt buckled, by the time Connor finally slipped into the drivers side. Something was _definitely_ up with her brother. Not a single smart remark or exchange of cussing at breakfast. It was strange...a good strange. And Zoe was almost positive it had something to do with his new friend.

"So, since when were you and Evan friends?" She broke the silence, gaze leaving the window and glancing over to Connor. "Didn't you push him on Monday?" Connor's grip around the steering wheel tightened and he looked slightly annoyed, but he gave an answer anyways.

"Don't act like you weren't there. I gave him back some letter I had stolen from him," Connor was drumming his fingers on the wheel absentmindedly now. "Then I ran into him after school, gave him a ride, and hung out at his house for a bit."

Zoe's interest was piqued. "What's Evan like?" She hummed curiously. At Connor's weird look, she clarified. "I mean, when he's not having sweating buckets and stuttering like a burned out engine, obviously."

Connor almost snickered. "Uh, I can't really say. I mean, c'mon Zoe, I'm not the friendliest-looking guy, he was pretty scared of me. Still is, I think." A pause. "He's...nice, though. Really jittery, but he warms up to you. Surprisingly talkative. Obsessed with trees." Connor allowed himself a laugh at that moment, finger-drumming growing more persistent. "In all honesty, he's a dork."  
"You seem to know a lot about him, seeing as you only met him a while ago." Zoe pointed out. She's not sure why she would, but the whole situation is baffling to her.  
Connor shrugged. "Like I said, he's talkative. I was at his house a long time too."

"Sounds almost like fate or something."

To her surprise, Connor let out a soft snort. "Yeah right, doubt it," He mumbled almost bitterly, but with a look of fondness in his eyes.

That made Zoe pause and, for the first in a long time, really _look_ at her brother; His hair combed, face slightly less pale, eyes clear and less somber. Suddenly, all at once, it almost seemed like he was a faded version of the boy she grew up with. The one who'd hunt for four-leaf clovers with her, the one who'd boost her up when she couldn't reach the higher shelfs, the one who'd play pirates with her.

Maybe that's what he'd been needing. A kid like Evan Hansen in his life. A friend.

Zoe smiled, turning to lean her head on the window, heart swelling with an emotion she hadn't felt in a long time. "Nah, it's definitely fate."

"What are you smiling about?" Connor grunted.

"Oh, nothing."

.  
.  
.  
.

Connor's patience was trying him.

Zoe went ahead of him, as usual, but their conversation left him feeling...content. Satisfied. It was simple, civil, and polite; no screaming or cursing or insults or threats. Connor felt lighter and better than he had in months, and he wanted to ride his high for as long as he could. But, of course, no matter how good of a morning he had, school was school, and people were people.

Most kids avoided him in the halls, like usual, but then there was Kleinman, storming up to Connor with a pissed expression.

  
"Hey, Hot Topic! What the hell was that yesterday in the hall?" The significantly shorter boy fumed.

  
"Woah, I know you need your glasses and all, but I didn't think your eyesight was that shitty."

  
"Don't get smart with me, Marilyn Manson," Jared snarked back, rolling his eyes. "What the hell did you do to Evan? He doesn't answer my texts for three hours, and then I find out the local crack-head was at his house!"

  
Connor narrowed his eyes, gaze cutting into Jared. "I don't smoke _crack_ , Kleinman. Your lazy ass forgot to give him a ride, so I just dropped him off at his house. Where is Evan anyway?"

"Well," Jared waved his hand dismissively in the air. "If you're looking for him right now, he went to class early. Something about a class presentation he has to mentally prep himself for before he goes into cardiac arrest." A pause. Jared narrowed his eyes. "Why do you want to know? Plannin' on murdering him?"

Connor groaned, dragging a hand down his face. He wanted this conversation to be over. "Is it so wrong to want to know where my friend is?" He snarled. Though the word felt foreign on his tongue, it just felt right.

"Wait, hold on," Jared cut in. "Evan Hansen, the kid who has a brain aneurysm every time he has to socialize, is now friends with you?"

Jared spat out the word 'you' with slight disgust, but Connor couldn't help but wonder as well. Why did Evan want to hang out with him? Maybe his apology? More to the point, they were friends now, right? Was one day even long enough time to know if someone is friend material? "Yes, Jared," He sighed, despite himself. "Yes, he is."

There was a lull in the conversation and, as kids passed by in the hallway, Connor was praying the bell would just ring already so he could ditch the pointless conversation all together. Then there was a wide, asshole grin on Jared's face, one that made him want to slap it off. "Hold the phone," Jared drawled out. "You two are totally _banging_ aren't you?!"

Connor spluttered, caught off-guard for a moment, quickly recovering to morph his expression into a deep scowl. "Kleinman, what the _fuck_?"

Jared was cackling, some kid's heads turning at the dramatic scene he was making. "Dude, I fucking called it! I knew your ass was a fa-"

"Oh, suck a dick, Jared-"

"Wouldn't you be the one sucking a di-"

"Jared!" Connor immediately turned at the new voice, nearly jumping as he realized there was a familiar girl in a purple flowered dress and jean jacket standing beside them now, wrists heavily jeweled with charm bracelets and arms clutching a heavy-looking binder and a couple of books.  "Alana?" Connor blinked.

The dark-skinned girl glanced over to Connor, bright, owlish brown eyes peeking over rectangular glasses with rounded edges. She shot him a polite, friendly smile, before frowning disapprovingly at Jared. "Honestly, haven't you payed attention to any the assembly's on bullying and harassment?"

"Uh, hey, I'm just having a little fun-" Jared started, but Alana narrowed her eyes. As nice as Alana is, she could be intimidating as all hell when she needed to be. In the moment Alana glared at Jared and he shut up, Connor decided this girl was a godsend.

"I won't tolerate any harassment towards my closest acquaintances," She continued scolding. "You should know better, Jared!"

"Jeez, sorry mom," Jared chuckled awkwardly, before winking and shooting finger-guns at Connor. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do, Murphy; Evan's fragile."

Connor restrained the urge to grab Alana's abnormally huge binder and chuck it at the shorter boy, instead letting him stride off towards his class.

Alana turned to him now, her smile apologetic, but somehow managing to stay blindingly bright. "I'm sorry about him, he shouldn't be so ignorant," She starts and Connor is about to thank her. "Just know this is a safe place for you and your sexuality does not define who you are as a character!" _Nevermind_. If only Alana Beck could learn to control her volume. He gets a few strange looks from passerbys and he discreetly flips them off as Alana rambles on about self-expression or pride or something.

The overly-enthusiastic girl is about to launch into a whole other speech about equality in schools and bully-free zones before the bell for first period finally rings. "Oh, well, it was nice talking to you! I hope you have a great day, Connor!" Alana chirped, giving a wave before turning on her heel to stride proudly towards her next class.

Connor couldn't help but chuckle and give a weak wave back. He could never keep up with a person like Alana, but he enjoyed her company nonetheless; hr didn't have to speak much and if he didn't know any better, he'd think Alana was just satisfied having someone listen to her rambles. It reminded him of Evan.

_It all came back to him didn't it?_

Connor jolted himself out of his thoughts, realizing the hallways were emptying and he raced to first period. He needed to stop his mind from wandering off without him.

.  
.  
.  
.

Half-way through his first period he was sent out in the hall for sleeping in class. It wasn't a big deal, it could've been for a worse reason. He idled outside with all his things, leaning against the wall and hoping the teacher would hurry the fuck up, yell at him, and bring him back in the classroom so he can nap some more.

The only reason he hadn't ditched yet is because needed to sit with Evan at lunch. He didn't want to leave him hanging, and he doubted Evan would eat unless Connor prodded him to. Still, there was an itch that was bothering him; His mind wandered to the freshly-bought bag of weed in his pocket. _Maybe just one hit?_

_No, the last time he was high around Evan he shoved the poor kid and screamed at him._

A door a few classrooms away suddenly swung open, banging loudly against the wall, followed by the sound of quick, growing footsteps and labored breathing. Connor flinched at the loud sound and looked up just in time to see a blue-striped blur rush into the boys bathroom.

_Evan?_

His thoughts immediately jumped to the worst possibilities and all thoughts of weed disintegrated from his mind. Connor quickly followed into the bathroom, heart pounding as his eyes landed on Evan.

Evan's things were dropped all over the bathroom floor, backpack open with notebooks and papers spilling out. The blond boy was in the corner, smaller than Connor had ever seen him; hunched tightly into a ball, rocking back and forth, tears streaming down his red face, trembling hands pulling at his hair and digging into his scalp, and his heavy wheezes as an attempt to pull air back into his lungs.

_Shit. Shitshitshitshitshit-_

All alarms were going off in Connor's head. He was familiar enough with panic attacks, and he rode them out himself, but he'd never had to help someone else having one before! He knew just by looking at Evan that his attacks were much more intense than Connor's. He rushed to Evan's side, reaching out a hand. "Evan-"

The second his fingers made contact with the boy's arm, Evan flinched and pulled away as if he was burned, shrinking even more into himself and releasing a strangled sob. Connor yanked back his hand, heart racing as his fear spiked. Okay, so touching was a no-go.

The brunette watched helplessly as Evan continued to cry, a million thoughts rushing in and out of his head. He thought back to those few months of therapy; _grounding_ , grounding was a technique his therapist taught him.

Connor whipped off his heavy black jacket and draped it carefully over Evan's shoulders. The change was immediate; the blond's hands tore away from his hair and pulled the jacket around himself tighter, fingers kneading into the fabric. So far so good.

Connor tore into Evan's backpack, racking his mind of any other possible grounding technique. He grabbed the first thing he felt at the bottom of the bag, pulling it out; a half-empty bottle of prescription pills. He considered giving it to Evan, but he knew the boy wouldn't let him close enough to allow him to. He didn't want to forcefully have Evan take it, either. But he put it to the side, just in case. He rummaged through the bag further and found Evan's stupidly adorable tree-case phone, earbuds already attached. His heart leapt and he quickly turned it on, thanking his lucky stars that Evan's phone had no password. He thumbed through the music frantically to find an playlist with a few songs, and custom label reading, ' _For Bad Days'._ He played the first song and maneuvered around Evan's tense shoulders to put in one of the earbuds.

Connor didn't know how long they sat there, Evan shaking and Connor sitting silently in front of him and he felt grateful that the few kids who wandered into the bathroom left as quickly as they had come once they saw the scene before them. Some had even offered to bring the nurse, and Connor assured them that he could handle it. He wanted to stay with Evan through this.  
His legs were beginning to fall asleep, and Evan was still gasping and wheezing, though his tears had begun to slow. "Evan, I need you to breathe, okay?" He finally spoke when he thought Evan was focused enough, as softly as he could, hoping it was somewhat-soothing. "I don't go to therapy anymore, but I remember my breathing exercises. Can you try to do them with me?" There was a quick, silent nod, tears beginning to well up again in the blond boy's face.

"Come on, in for 8, hold for 5, out for 8. In for-" Connor repeated himself quietly for every shuddering breath Evan managed to pull into his lungs. A few minutes passed like this, Evan trying to steady his breathing and Connor speaking gently to him. Soon, Evan's breathing evened out to slow, albeit trembling inhales.

"Can I touch you?" The taller of the two asked, careful not to send the boy into another panic. Evan stayed silent for a beat before nodding meekly. The brunette moved to sit beside Evan, back pressed against the wall of the gross-ass bathroom and he slung an arm over Evan's shoulder, the blond almost melting into the touch and he began to lean heavily onto Connor. Connor would usually be embarrassed at that, but given the circumstances, he knew this was just what Evan needed to calm down, so the boy stayed silent, letting Evan lean his head onto his chest.

"...M'sorry." A weak, watery mumble was muffled by Connor's jacket pressed against Evan's face. His voice sounded strained and Connor had the urge to clear his own throat just hearing it.

"For what, having a panic attack?" Connor snapped a bit too loudly and Evan flinched, tensing in his arms. Connor wanted nothing more than to punch himself in the face. He grabbed Evan's hand on impulse before said boy could close in on himself.

"Sorry," The brunette mumbled, considerably gentler. "I didn't mean to snap at you. But you shouldn't ever have to apologize for that, okay?"

Evan quietly nodded and Connor felt the boy relax against him once more. Their hands stayed clasped for a beat longer than necessary before Connor pulled away. He would be lying if he said he didn't miss the warmth of Evan's hand in his own.

Connor cleared his throat awkwardly and nudged him gently. They'll be time to hate himself for those thoughts later; right now, he needed to focus on Evan. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Evan shrugged half-heartedly, taking that time to sit up more and take Connor's jacket off of his shoulders, pushing his arms through the sleeves. "I, u-uh, had a p-presentation in science and, um, when i-it was my t-turn to present-" Evan started chuckling, quietly and self-deprecating, like he was telling a joke. It sounded horribly forced. "I-I dropped my project in f-front of ev-everyone and they, um, a-all laughed."

Connor shook his head, glaring down at the floor like it had murdered his first-born child. "Fucking assholes. They can go fuck themselves on a cactus."

A surprised laugh bubbled out of Evan and he quickly clapped a hand over his mouth, flushing and looking down at his shoes. "S-sorry."

"You don't need to apologize, Evan. It's okay."

"O-oh, sorry-wait, I-I mean-"

Connor, surprisingly, genuinely laughed at that, Evan staring at him for a moment before joining in the laughter awkwardly. Once their laughter died down, they sat in silence for a few beats, staring at each other.

"Your nails are painted," Evan pointed out suddenly, voice surprisingly clear. Connor subconsciously looked down to examine his nails, shiny black polish slightly chipped in the corners. It was a harmless observation, but the brunette felt his walls come crashing back up. "Something wrong with that?" He heard himself say before he could stop. Evan quickly shook his head, the rare glimpse of his confidence fading quickly. "A-ah, no I just, d-don't usually see that. With guys. Um! It's, uh, cool."

"Oh," Connor quickly relaxed. "Um, thanks."

Another silence.

"Are you going back to class?" Connor asked quietly. Evan almost immediately shook his head. "N-no, I couldn't-I don't think I can h-handle it," He mumbled, almost ashamed. "I'll j-just call my mom and go home."

The brunette nodded, moving to help Evan pack his notebooks and papers back into his bag. When he picked up the prescription bottle, Evan grew visibly flustered and jumped to his feet. As Evan stood up, Connor could finally see how much his jacket swallowed the blond, cuffs reaching his knuckles. As cute as he found it, he decided it was better to shove aside that thought for now. Connor passed him the bottle, the blond boy meekly shoving the pill bottle into his bag, almost as if he was ashamed. The smaller boy fiddled with the straps of his bag. "T-thank you. I mean, f-for today," He said sheepishly. "I'm sorry y-you had to deal w-with that."

Connor waved a hand. "It's no problem. I couldn't just leave you like that, anyways. What kind of friend would I be?"

Evan stilled for a moment, and regret hit Connor hard like a blow to the stomach. He made a mistake didn't he? He overstepped. _Of course they weren't real friends, what was he-_

Evan beamed, honest-to-god beamed, at Connor, his cheeks flushing a nice pink color. "Y-yeah, friends."

Relief flooded through Connor and Evan turned to leave the bathroom when suddenly an idea flew out of the brunette's mouth before he could think otherwise. "Do you want to come with me?"

Evan paused and glanced back towards Connor, a perplexed expression crossing his features. "Wha-"

"I mean, I was planning on skipping right after lunch," Connor continued, "And if you're going home, why not come with me?"

Evan looked thoughtful, playing with the cuffs of his sleeves (or, rather, Connor's sleeves) absentmindedly. "W-well, its better than being home alone..." he mused.

Connor smiled, trying not to seem too enthusiastic. He stood up and picked up his own bag. "Great! C'mon, I know the best place for ice cream. You look like you could use some."  
.  
.  
.  
.

If you told Evan Hansen two days ago that he'd be sitting in Connor Murphy's car on the way to get ice cream with him, he'd laugh in your face. Then apologize.

But there he was, both boy's backpacks throw in the backseat, black jacket worn by Evan, and the owner of said jacket grumbling about his hair in his face as he drove.

"Okay, fuck it," Connor groaned, frustrated, and reach down to his wrist to pull off a small, black hair tie. He had pulled back his hair into a hasty ponytail in a matter of seconds, a few stray hairs falling loose. Evan could only stare because, oh _wow._

The blond boy had just recently admitted that he found Connor Murphy attractive. Well, not that it had to mean anything. He'd had a crush on Zoe, Connor's sister, for the longest time, but the infatuation came and went. She was relatively nice and she was beautiful, sure, but it was more an idealization of her that he was in love with. Connor was a bit different; while Zoe is all soft, subtle smiles and bell-like laughter, Connor is beautiful in an almost scary way. Sharp features, steely eyes and a tall, slender figure. Still, it was easier to see the sibling's resemblance in those rare moments when Connor smiled, when that sharpness softened.

He silently cursed the genetics of the Murphy siblings.

"Y-you really don't have to do this..." Evan started, because really, he didn't. He'd already bothered him that morning and probably woke the brunette up, and then burdened Connor with babysitting him during his panic attack, and being so damn _clingy_. For fucks sake, he's wearing Connor's jacket! _Oh god, what if he starts sweating_? Connor will get back a soggy, smelly jacket from him and be disgusted and get mad that Evan stunk up the jacket and yell and then he'll not want to be friends with a smelly kid anymore and ditch Evan on the side of the road and leave him there to die and a serial killer driving by will see him and pull up to stab Evan and he'll bleed to death on the side of the road and Connor would make his mom pay for the jacket and then his mom would be pissed that she had to pay for the jacket because it's probably expensive and she'll disown Evan all because he got sweaty wearing Connor Murphy's jacket.

He knew deep down Connor found him a nuisance.

But it was a bit difficult to linger on the tiny, frantic voice in his head when Connor smiled at him like _that_. Still, it wasn't the time; there would be time for a sexuality crisis later.

"Dude, it's fine," the taller assured him. "My treat. Besides, I've never had anyone to skip with. It's nice."

Evan had only seen it a few times, but he knew Connor had a special smile; a little crooked, but the kind that lit up his whole face and showed off small dimples, eyes crinkling up in the corners. He never would have expected Connor to have such a nice smile, considering how his face was usually set in a twisted scowl. Jared always referred to it as "resting-bitch face".

But Connor was more than looks. He and Evan just...clicked. It was unexpected, sudden, and...weird, to be honest. They'd only known each-other for maybe a day, but somehow Evan knew he could trust Connor. Sure, he has a short temper, and when he gets mad he yells, and when he yells it scared the shit out of Evan and Evan has to ignore the stench of weed constantly floating around Connor (though it was less prominent today) and try not to worry about Connor pressuring him to smoke or light up a garbage can or something. The brunette just had...something about him that made him easy to talk to.

Evan wasn't deaf. He knew what people thought of Connor, he knew what they called him. He knew that people either avoided him or went out of their way to bully him. And, yeah, Evan was scared of him for a while too. But, in knowing him just a day, Connor suddenly wasn't scary anymore. Connor's eyes didn't pry, or judge, or glare at him (unless he was majorly pissed). They just stared, almost knowingly, into Evan. As if he understood.

He had questions. A lot. Like, why did he help Evan in the bathroom? Why does he even bother with Evan? Why does he wear so many layers during August? Why haven't they talked before? Why is he so pretty? Why-

A container and fork being shoved into Evan's lap jolted him out of his thoughts, which is probably for the better. The boy looked questionably at Connor, who shrugged, seemingly flustered. "I expected you not to eat today, so I packed you some food. You don't have to eat it, though."

Evan was at a loss; he didn't know if he should be offended that he thought he wouldn't eat (not that he was wrong), or flattered that he kept Evan in mind. Instead, the blond boy simply mutter a small, "thank you". Connor grunted in response. While the brunette drove, Evan opened the container to examine the food (some strange-tasting lasagna) and started eating as slow as possible, careful not to seem like a slob or get anything on the seats or his shirt.

"Hey, we're here," Connor's voice broke the silence just as he had finished off the last bit of lasagna. He hastily unbuckled his seatbelt and climbed out of the car to follow Connor.

It was a small, simple white ice cream parlor with wide windows framed with blue, and a blue rimed door. Small blue text was printed at the top of the store, 'Á La Mode'.

The brunette swung open the door to the ice cream parlor without hesitation, immediately making Evan tense with the attention they might draw. A small bell jingled as the door opened, and Connor stepped to the side of the door, holding it with an exaggerated bow and a sly grin. "After you, Hansen."

Evan gave a small chuckle, eyes sweeping over the shop. It smelled like vanilla and cake batter. It was simple, and cute; white walls with light blue stripes, small circular tables and a few booths. Other than a lovey-dovey couple and an exasperated pair of parents trying to get their kids to sit still, the shop was empty.

Almost immediately, a freckled tan-skinned girl with long, highlighted brown hair pulled in a loose bun suddenly popped from the back behind the counter. She wore a simple white shirt, sleeves rolled up, and a blue apron adored with pins and buttons; one of them catching his eye with what he was sure was the lesbian pride flag.

Evan was ready to turn around and leave; she looked annoyed and Evan was prepared for the worst. The girl looked up to Connor, the edge in her voice much less severe than the blond would have expected. "Shouldn't you be in school?"

Connor shrugged. "Just poppin' in for ice cream Layla, no trouble," He spoke casually, yet coolly, and Evan assumed that they two were friendly with each other, but not on 'friend' terms.

  
Acquaintances, he thought to himself, as Alana liked to call it.

"Just call in whenever you're looking for a job. You spend most of your day here anyways," She snarked.

Finally, the girl's gaze landed on Evan as if she'd just noticed he was there, eyes as bright as those blonde highlights in her hair. Evan felt himself sink under her stare, hand reflexively going to the hem of his shirt. "Holy shit," She said softly, looking to Connor and back to Evan and to Connor once more. "Holy shit! No way! Your gay-ass finally got a cute boyfriend?!"

Connor's cheeks flushed pink. Evan would've laughed at the rare sight, if not for his face feeling like it was doused in lighter fluid and lit on fire.

"Jesus, Layla, lower your voice!" Connor hissed. The tan girl looked around the shop, the other customers staring at the three of them, and sheepishly smiled. "Oh, sorry..."

"W-w-we're not-" Evan cursed his brain at the moment, which was having a tough time connecting a coherent sentence to his mouth. Luckily, Connor jumped in. "We're just friends. He was...having a bad day, so he's tagging along with me today."

Layla hummed in understanding, while Evan sent a silent thanks to Connor for sparing the details of his earlier meltdown.

"Ah, nothing like jeopardizing your future and dragging a pure soul into bad decisions to cheer them up. Inspiring," The girl spoke with a hint of humor, but her words left Evan slightly concerned and regretting his choice of possibly encouraging Connor to skip. "Anyways, my shift just started. What can I get you two today?"

Evan winced, eyes darting up to the large chalk board menu. Shit. He'd been so caught up in the conversation, he completely forgot about ordering. Layla was looking at him expectantly, Connor probably knew what he wanted already and Evan was being so damn slow and wasting their time and the people in the store were going to _stare_ at him now and watch him have another panic attack because what kind of _freak_ has a panic attack over ice cream and air in his lungs was starting to shrink and they wouldn't stop staring at hi-

A hand clapped down on his shoulder suddenly. "Hey, Ev, you've got to try the Peanut Butter Pecan, I have a feeling you'll really like it!" Connor was smiling at him, knowingly. Evan felt a sudden wave of relief and nodded. Pecan wasn't his favorite, but he'd rather have ice cream he disliked than have a breakdown in the middle of an ice cream parlor. "S-sure."

"Alrighty," Layla punched in the order. Whether she didn't want to mention what had almost happened or was completely oblivious, Evan couldn't tell. "And the usual, Connor?"

"You know me so well."

Layla rolled her eyes. "$5.88."

Evan eyed Connor with furrowed eyebrows as the brunette pulled out his wallet. Connor caught his stare and shook his head reassuringly before he could open his mouth. "It's fine, I said it was my treat."

The blond had to bite his tongue to keep from protesting, watching Connor hand over the cash. Layla grinned widely when he put ten dollars in the tip jar before turning around and yelling towards the back room. "Pecan ice-cream and the usual!"

A few moments later, a dark skinned girl with short, thick curly hair walked out with two cups; pecan ice-cream, and what looked like enough peanut butter and chocolate ice cream to drown someone with. Evan felt dehydrated just looking at it. She wore the same blue apron, though it was dusted with cream and chocolate and kept relatively bare.

The girl smiled. "You really ought to just come back and tell me the order. Practically the whole town heard you, I'm sure."

"Oh shut up," Layla rolled her eyes playfully, leaning over to give a subtle peck on her cheek. The girl's smile grew, cheeks dusting. Evan couldn't help but smile as well.

Connor made mock-gagging noises. "You guys are disgustingly adorable together. C'mon, Ev," The brunette nudged him with his shoulder and made his way to a table, Evan stuttering out a quick thanks and racing close behind him.

Connor already was shoveling spoonfuls of chocolate in his mouth as Evan settled down across from him, carefully tasting his ice cream. Sweet, but not overwhelmingly.

A silence, once again, settled around them, but Evan could tell it wasn't a comfortable one. This was awkward and he hated it. _Shit. Say something._

"U-um,"

Connor glanced up, eyes in a silent reassurance. A gesture to continue. _Fuck, now he's expecting you to_ _talk_. Evan's mind began racing through the past hour for something, anything to talk about. _Shit, c'mon, say something damn it!_

"You, y-you uh, called me Ev earlier?" Evan stuttered out, grasping at the straws for anything to keep the conversation going.

Connor raised an eyebrow and shrugged, looking slightly flustered. "Oh, yeah. If you're uncomfortable with a nickname, just say so."

"No, it-its totally fine!" Evan blurted out a bit too loudly. He flushed when a little boy in a high-chair laughed at his outburst. His mother scolded the boy and gave an apologetic look to Evan.

"I-uh, its better than 'Acorn', I guess." Evan mumbled, shoving a spoon of ice cream in his mouth to shut himself up.

"Who calls you that?" Connor looked slightly miffed.

Evan swallowed down the ice cream. "Jared."

"Because you fell out of a tree?"

"Y-yeah."

"Guess I'll call him Moby, since he's acting like a dick."

Evan gave a small laugh, and Connor smiled back at him. Now Connor was waiting for Evan to talk about something else. The blond attempted a smooth transition.

"S-so you're gay?"

Nice one, Evan.

Connor's smile slipped off his face almost startlingly fast and his expression was beginning to harden back into a scowl. Evan had almost forgotten how he looked when he was upset. "It's that a problem, Hansen?" The brunette asked with a sharp edge to his voice, shaky hands dropping his plastic spoon with a soft 'clank' on the table. Layla looked up from a magazine she was skimming through at the counter, looking mildly concerned and ready to interject at any moment, which didn't help Evan's anxiety. He knows where Connor's anger got him last time; on the floor of the hallway, having a panic attack.

"Oh, n-n-no! G-god no, o-of course not!" The blond bumbled through his words, face growing steadily warmer. "I-I have cousins w-who are u-uh, I-I have noth-nothing against-I'm sorry Connor, if I made y-you feel-"

"Fuck," The brunette hissed out through his teeth, running a hand through his hair and inadvertently undoing his ponytail. He glared at the fallen hair tie in his hand and pulled it on his wrist, snapping it against his skin a few times. He still looked angry, but it was more directed at himself. Evan could see the guilt painted across his face clear as day. "No, shit, I should be the one saying sorry Evan," He huffed. "I'm just being paranoid. You know how people can be sometimes."

"D-do you know anyone like that? Against it, I-I mean."

"My dad."

"Oh."

Connor looked like he didn't want to talk about it anymore, shoving a particularly large spoonful of ice cream in his mouth. Evan just nodded, not pushing it any further.

  
Evan looked up and made eyes contact with Layla, who had picked up her magazine again. She nodded towards the blond, giving him a wink. Evan flushed and meekly turned back to Connor. "What-uh, how do you know L-Layla and...uh?"

Connor noticeably perked up, a smile being restrained. "Oh, those two? Layla's mom runs the place and Natalie's her girlfriend. Whenever I have a shitty day, I come here. So, y'know, I see them a lot."

"I thought y-you didn't have any f-friends? O-oh my god, that was r-rude, I'm s-"

Connor shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, yeah. They're not really my friends, per say. They know I got issues and we're not all that close. I can't really-" The brunette paused for a moment, eyebrows scrunched as he searched for the words. "...confide in them."

Evan nodded, taking another spoonful of his ice cream in thought. "W-well now you have someone to confide in. A-as in, um, you can confide in me! If, uh, you w-want."

A brief silence. Connor is smiling again, that smile. "Thanks, Ev."

And, even though his stomach twists with a strange feeling, Evan can't help but smile back


	4. A Perfect Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two friends.
> 
> Or: the fluffy orchard chapter before everything begins.

Now, when you're like Connor, good moments are fucking rare. He cherishes those moments of light and bliss in his life while they last because, for all he knows, it could very well be the last bit of light he'll have in months. His emotions are unsteady and balanced on a thin line, and, with something as small as a strange look from a complete stranger, they can shift like the tides and his head will be flooded once again with that drowning depression, paranoia, and self-hatred that could drag on for days.

 

So it was a pretty big deal for him when he's been content for more than 24 hours.

 

Evan had that effect on him. He seemed to make the ringing in his head quiet and leave nothing but soothing thoughts in its path. Sure, it was weird as fuck and yeah, it was definitely confusing, but was Connor about to question it? Nope, not a chance. He was gonna ride this high out for as long as he could until Evan eventually learned how fucked up he was and put a stop to whatever was going on between them. But that was future Connor's problem. For the meantime, Evan seemed to enjoy his company.

 

That's probably why he trusted him enough to bring him the orchard.

 

They sat in the car again, music low and filling the otherwise silent air. It was comfortable for a while, but Connor could see that Evan was starting to become antsy as the scenery changed from rural neighborhoods to wooded fields. The car shook slightly, adjusting from the change from concrete road to dirt.

 

"Um...w-where are we going now?" Evan asked quietly.

 

Connor glanced over fondly at blond boy for a moment, smiling. "It's a surprise, I promise you'll like it."

 

Evan didn't look any less unsettled, shuffling slightly. They pulled over to the side of the dirt road. Connor unbuckled his seatbelt and hopped out, almost giddy, and prodded impatiently. "C'mon Ev, we're almost there!"

 

Evan climbed out warily and began trailing behind Connor. It wasn't night, not by any means, but with the overgrown trees overhead it might as well been. Thin slivers of light shined through and did provide some light, but definitely not as much as Evan would've liked. He tripped over a tangled tree root poking through the dirt and nearly fell flat on his face. That would've been a broken, bloody nose and a even more broken arm for sure. Meanwhile, up ahead, the brunette soon grew impatient at the blond boy's sluggish pace. He turned back swiftly and grabbed Evan's hand without a second thought, tugging him along. "God, you're slow. Hurry up!"

 

He could feel Evan's hand clam up, but the blond didn't protest and allowed himself to be pulled along, unsure, nervous giggles bubbling out of the shorter boy.

 

He'd never taken anyone to the orchard, not even Zoe. He'd hadn't been there with anyone ever since 'the incident'.  He felt vulnerable there. But he trusted Evan, and he knew Evan would like it. This is the place where he'd lie in the grass and sketch wildflowers, where he'd sleep against the strong trunks of trees when he was too high to go home, where he'd walk among the thick grasses and rant to nobody in particular, where he'd take note of the best spots to sit and watch the sunset and forget about all his problems.

 

He'd always hoped that he could share it with a friend one day.

 

"Um, Connor, are we-uh, allowed to be here?" Evan whispered to him, eyeing overgrown grasses and thick-leafed trees. He stumbled over a twisted branch and he let out a startled squeak, picking up his pace to walk side-by-side with Connor.

 

Connor, eager and unusually chipper, dropped Evan's hand and turned to him with a sly smile. "Evan Mark Hansen-"

 

"My m-middle name isn't Mark-"

 

"-I present to you, Autumn Smiles Apple Orchard!" He bowed deeply and extended his arms in an exaggerated motion, as if he wasn't gesturing to mottled, rotting sign and a chain-link fence with probably enough rust to be considered a health hazard. The sign was smeared and clearly neglected, and some letters had faded entirely.

 

"...Where exactly is the 'Orchard' part of 'Autumn Smiles Apple Orchard'?" Evan murmured.

 

"Ha-ha, smart-ass. It's past the fence, c'mon," Connor squated down and pushed back the overgrown limbs of a shrub, revealing a gap in the fence, just big enough to crawl through. "Oh and, uh, you might want to cover your face. I don't know if this shit from the rust is bad to breathe in, but better safe than sorry."

 

Evan pulled up the collar of Connor's jacket over his nose and mouth, carefully moving closer to hover over Connor's shoulder and watch as he brushed away the last remaining leaves away from the fence. "If it's really that bad, why don't you c-cover up?"

 

"Because I don't give a shit," The brunette replied nonchalantly as he crawled through. The sharp edges of the cut fence poked and snagged at his sleeves and his hair, annoyingly so."But I know you do,"

 

"Oh," Evan mumbled, lowering to his knees and following Connor's example, letting out tiny "ow"s as he struggled to pull himself through on just one arm. By the time he made it to the other side, his khaki's were starkly much darker at the knees and there was dirt sticking to his hands. Connor didn't fare much better, but it was less notable on his darker clothing.

 

"Alright, the hard part's over," Connor smiled, an action that Evan was quickly growing fond of. "Now, we just follow the path!"

 

The walked in silence, genuine curiosity settling in as Evan followed Connor. Soon enough, the gloomy, overgrown trees of what used to be a welcoming trail pulled away, letting the sun shine through with all it's golden warmth onto the orchard.

 

The trees were more evenly spread out, their strong branches twisting in such a way to support the weight of the full apples. Some were fresh, some were growing, but most were dying. The ground was scattered with overgrown wildflowers, cushioning the impact of fallen apples that were rotting away without anyone to pick them off the tree and take them home.

 

Despite this, the neglected apple trees remained strong and stubborn, their leaves full and spread pridefully, showing off the healthy green color that refused to fade. And past the trees? A beautiful field of flowers and tall wild grasses so breathtaking that Evan could only stare, Connor watching him the an amused expression.

 

"What do you think?" The brunette grinned as Evan struggled to voice his thoughts.

 

"How...how has this all survived? Isn't this place abandoned?" Evan finally breathed out. Connor shrugged. "Dunno. These trees are as tough as shit. I'll water them from time to time, but they're just naturally stubborn, I guess."

 

Evan smiled, turning to tilt his head at Connor. "Well? Aren't you going to give me the g-grand tour?"

 

Connor grinned.

 

.

.

.

.

.

 

The two boys sat under one of the stronger trees closest to the orchard's shallow creek, with Evan sharing his wild stories as Connor scribbled in his sketchbook messily. The sun beat down on them, but the heat was relieved by a cool, steady breeze, rustling the leaves and flowers beneath their feet.

 

"-Then the guy slammed on the brakes, and my mom f-flipped out! I swear, she was three seconds away from g-getting out of her car and chewing him out in the middle of traffic," Evan rambled as he unsuccessfully tried to skip a stone on the creek.

 

"Wow, I never took your mom to be the road-rage type," Connor hummed absentmindedly as he sketched. He'd thought about drawing Evan, before dismissing the thought. That was a little much for someone as anxious as Evan, and he didn't want to make him uncomfortable. Still, he found himself glancing up every so often to study Evan's face, something that the blond boy quickly noticed and didn't comment on. He'd simply flush a darker shade of red and continue with his stories.

 

Evan was everything Connor ever wanted in a muse. He'd have to ask him one day.

 

"You wouldn't expect it, w-would you? I mean, I don't think my mom could even hurt a fly, but if you cut her off in traffic s-she will end you."

 

"I could see that, actually," Connor snickered, looking up in amusement at Evan's frustrated expression as another stone landed with an underwhelming 'plop' in the water.

 

"I give up," Evan sighed, leaning back into the grass to lay on his back. "I'll never get the perfect s-skip that I've dreamed of."

 

The brunette smiled down at him before turning back to his sketchbook, pencil working fast against paper. "Drama queen."

 

"Hey!" Evan swiftly whacked Connor playfully on the arm and Connor snorted.

 

They sat in comfortable silence, the rustle of the grasses and pencil against paper being the only noise filling the air.

 

As the sun grew brighter, Evan sat up, short hair sticking out in strange directions after being tousled by the grass. "What time is it?"

 

Connor placed his sketchbook down to pull out his phone, glancing at the time. "Uh, it's 2:13. We should probably be heading back soon, school's almost over-"

 

"Is that the creek?" Evan interrupted, and Connor looked up to see his sketchbook suddenly in the blond boy's hands. He must've been waiting for an opportunity, the sneaky fucker. On one hand, Connor was glad that Evan was comfortable enough around him to take his sketchbook without a second thought. On the other hand, Connor felt like he'd been exposed to Evan. His anxiety spiked, and he almost snatched the book away from him, but after seeing the soft look in Evan's eyes, his anxiousness melted away.

 

Besides the large, detailed sketch of the rippled creek, there wasn't much on the page; a couple of sloppy wildflowers, practice doodles of the texture of tree bark, and some birds in their nests. Evan held the book in his uninsured hand loosely and tenderly, almost like he was afraid it would break. His fingers didn't touch the paper, they simply hovered over it and traced the messy lines, inches away. "This is amazing, Connor," He said in a hushed voice.

 

Connor felt himself flush and carefully took the sketchbook away from Evan's weak grasp. "It's really nothing, it's just a hobby."

 

"No, I'm s-serious, that's really g-good," Evan spoke with a bit more conviction. "Have you considered going to an art college?"

 

Connor shrugged meekly. "Maybe. I'm, uh, not really sure what I want to do," He didn't like to talk about college; whenever Larry brought it up, it started arguments that lasted hours.

 

 _But_ _Larry_ _isn't_ _the_ _one_ _bringing_ _it_ _up_ , he reasoned with himself. Talking about college is normal with friends. Right?

 

Evan was glancing up at Connor, looking expectantly, but waiting for him to collect his thoughts. Connor paused, thinking back. _What_ _did_ _I_ _want_ _to_ _be_ _when_ _I_ _was_ _a_ _kid?_ The memories flooded back, and he smiled fondly. "Actually, I wanted to be a photographer when I was little." The brunette finally confessed.

 

"Woah, really?"

 

"Yeah. I mean, I could travel the world and see new places and new people, all while doing something I love. Sounds great to me," Connor tilted backwards, letting himself fall back on the grasses with a dull thump.

 

"I want to be a botanist," Evan said meekly. "Or maybe a park ranger. Or maybe a dendrologist. Or-"

 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa-" Connor waved his hands around to cut him off. "I understood Park ranger. What else did you say?"

 

"Botanist-"

 

"Botanist, right."

 

"-or _Dendrologist_."

 

"...den-dra-wha? Is that some Dr.Phil shit?"

 

And suddenly, filling the air was the loudest, ugliest snort Connor has ever heard. He sat up like a bullet, and Evan had one hand clasped tightly over his face, his shoulders shaking with laughter, and was slowly turning the darkest shade of red humanly possible.

 

"Oh my _god_! Evan-"

 

"S-shut up-!"

 

"That was _adorable_ , oh my god-!"

 

"I s-said shut _up_!"

 

Connor was laughing so hard his stomach was beginning to hurt, and Evan's laughs became so strong that tears started to form in the corners of his eyes.

 

They'd have to head home soon. But in this moment, there was nowhere Connor would rather be.

 

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

 

The ride back to Evan's house was quiet.

 

For once Connor didn't like it, simply for the fact that the day was over. They lost track of time and a few more hours past before they rushed back to the car, and now the sun was almost set. It was almost 9pm, and they both knew that Evan's mom wouldn't be happy.

 

He couldn't help but feel like something bad was about to happen. Which, after being so happy these past few days, felt like a bucket of cold water dumped over his head. He tried to convince himself.

 

 _Don't_ _get_ _so_ _worked_ _up_. _There's_ _always_ _tomorrow_.

 

He sighed quietly as he navigated through the neighborhood, glancing fondly at the slightly shorter boy, who's gaze was locked into his lap as he fidgeted with Connor's long sleeves.

 

"Y'know," Evan began, causing Connor to turn his head back towards the road so fast that he almost got whiplash. "I've been thinking, a-and don't think of this as weird! But, um, these past couple of days have been...the best I've had. In a long time. So thank you," Evan mumbled meekly.

 

"...It's not weird," Connor reassured him quietly, flexing his grip on the steering wheel. They were nearing his street. "I feel the same way."

 

They pulled up to the curb, and Connor promptly got out as Evan did. _Shit_ , _wait_ , _is_ _it_ _weird_ _to_ _walk_ _someone_ _to_ _their_ _door_? _That's_ _just_ _being_ _polite_ , _right_? Connor internalized as he followed behind Evan, just relieved that Evan either didn't notice, or decided not to comment on.

 

As soon as they neared the door, Evan stopped. "Oh!" He exclaimed in realization, and quickly tugged off Connor's jacket, practically shoving it back into Connor's hands. "S-sorry! I totally forgot that you lent me it!"

 

Connor had already gotten so used to Evan wearing his jacket that it was almost weird seeing Evan in just his normal blue polo. Almost. "You can have it, if you want," Connor spoke without thinking, and mentally slapped himself.

 

Evan shook his head. "N-no, I couldn't. Thank you though," He went back to fidgeting with hiscast now that he had no sleeves to pick at. "You'll text me, right?"

 

Connor could barely hold back his smile. "Yeah, of course man."

 

Evan returned the smile and opened his mouth to say something else, but was promptly cut off by the door swinging open and light flooding outside.

 

" _Evan_ _Hansen_!" There stood Heidi Hansen all her 5'5 glory, and judging by her expression, she was _not_ happy.

 

"Where have you been? You told me that you came home early, and I come home to an empty house!"

 

Evan winced, and seemed to shrink back. "S-sorry mom. I-I just thought that i-if I was with a friend, you wouldn't b-be mad?"

 

"I'm not upset because you were out late with a friend, Evan," Heidi fumed, glancing at Connor briefly. "I'm upset because you _lied_ about coming home, and didn't tell me that you were with Connor,"

 

Evan turned beet red and looked down at his shoes. Connor couldn't help but feel out of place, like he was intruding.

 

"I-I'm sorry Mrs.Hansen," Connor began. "I, uh, kinda pressured him into it. It's partially my fault, I'm sorry-"

 

Heidi waved her hand and Connor fell silent. She took a moment to collect her thoughts before crossing her arms to look at Evan tenderly. "Honey, I'm thrilled that you're spending time with your friends. So I won't ground you," Evan's face perked up, but Heidi continued. "But please don't lie to me anymore, okay? Tell me whenever you plan on going out."

 

Evan nodded eagerly and gave Heidi a tight hug. "Thank y-you, Mom!" He exclaimed.

 

Connor watched the exchange with a mixture of fondness and happiness. The relationship between Heidi and Evan was what he'd always wanted in a family.

 

Deep down, there was a bitter root of jealously.

 

Heidi pulled away and gave Evan a quick kiss on the forehead, causing Evan to mutter something about her embarrassing him. "Go on inside, dinners ready. I'll be right there to eat with you, but I want to talk to Connor first," She told him.

 

Evan looked just as confused as Connor felt, and he looked back at him with a meek wave as he disappeared into the house, closing the door behind him. It was just Connor and Heidi now.

 

Nothing was more terrifying.

 

"First off, I do hope you're not getting my son into anything illegal?"

 

"N-no, of course not!" _Nobody_ _went_ _to_ _the_ _orchard_ _anyways_.

 

"Do you have a drivers license?"

 

"Yes ma'am."

 

"And your parents?"

 

"They don’t care if I go out." He didn’t mean for it to come out sounding so bitter.

 

Heidi took all this information in, before nodding.

 

"How have _you_ been?"

 

Heidi wasn't asking about what happened recently anymore. He knew that by the way her voice softened. Connor felt his throat tighten, and his eyes dropped to his feet.

 

"As okay as I can be."

 

The blonde woman fixed him with a gentle gaze. "I heard that your father canceled your therapy sessions."

 

"...yeah."

 

"I'm so sorry I couldn't do more."

 

Connor smiled now, still not having it in him to meet her eyes. "You've done enough already. I'm just surprised you haven't told Evan about everything. _You_ of all people know how horrible I am."

 

"Do you really think that lowly of me?" Heidi's voice hardened.

 

The brunette startled and he backtracked. "N-no, of course not! I just...assumed that you wouldn't want someone like me around your son."

 

Her tone softened once again. "You saw how happy you made him, didn't you?" She asked gently. "You're a wonderful boy, Connor. You just have obstacles in life that you'll overcome with time."

 

Connor finally looked up to meet Heidi's gentle gaze. He was overwhelmed by the sincerity she had as she stepped forward and enveloped him in another hug, just like she had the day before.

 

"Don't let those obstacles overcome you," She said quietly. “You can’t let your struggles take what’s best in you and tarnish it.”

 

Connor didn't hug back. He simply let himself be hugged, trying to burn this moment into his memory.

 

 _Don't_ _let_ _those_ _obstacles_ _overcome_ _you_.

 

He felt like Heidi Hansen was trying to save him a second time.

 

 _If_ _only_ _she_ _knew_ _everything_ _he’d_ _done_ _to_ _hurt_ _people_.

 

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

 

That night, Connor snuck back home. His parents and Zoe were already asleep, so he crept back up to his room, climbing a tree that was perch right outside his window, unlocked it, and crawled inside.

 

That night, Connor lied down and thought about Heidi's words.

 

 _Don't_ _let_ _those_ _obstacles_ _overcome_ _you_.

 

With that in mind, he drifted asleep.

 

_That night, Connor had a dream._

_He had a dream that he was chasing a boy he knew. Connor moved as fast as he could, but the boy moved faster. He couldn't understand why the boy was so far out of reach, or how he moved so fast._

_When Connor finally lost his stamina and began to slow, he cried out the boy's name, the painful grating of his vocal cords the only way of knowing that he did, in fact, call out for him. Connor couldn't hear himself. He only heard white noise._

_The boy stopped and turned, locking eyes with Connor. Connor smiled, and waited for the boy's eyes to light up and waited for him to run back towards him in greeting._

_But the boy simply stared back, eyes empty and confused._

_Why didn't the boy move?_

_Why did Connor feel so sad?_

_Why was he staring at Connor like he was a stranger?_

_Before Connor could cry out for him again, he was engulfed by darkness, and the boy disappeared from sight._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_Dear Evan Hansen,_

_I really don't know what to write right now. I'm just so...happy? I haven't felt like this in a long time and I just...I missed it. Today started off horribly. I dropped my project in front of the whole class, so I don't look forward to Biology tomorrow. But then I left school early and I was with Connor the whole day. I just felt...I felt great? I’ve never had a friend like Connor. I’ve never met anyone like him. I think, if he really wants to be my friend, I have something to look forward to now when I go to school. And I had dinner with mom too! I know she’s always busy, but it felt nice to eat with her, even if it was a little awkward. I’m starting to think I’ll be okay. It’s not much, but it’s a start right?_

_I can’t wait for tomorrow!_

_Sincerely, your friend,_

_Me_

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and Comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading! ♡


End file.
